


Rise

by gladiatorAviator



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M, Minor Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein, Minor Armin Arlert/Levi, Wingfic, tags. wrangled.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1664969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladiatorAviator/pseuds/gladiatorAviator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin Arlert has a dangerous secret. For years, he's had to run and hide, the wings an unwelcome reminder that he wasn't fully <i>human.</i> When Levi stumbles upon him, Armin finds out he, and his wings, may just be the last piece of the puzzle the Survey Corps has needed. </p><p>Canon divergent, takes place after the events of episode 25 of the anime.</p><p>NOTE<br/>***<br/>8/11/17 Figuring out some Big Life Decisions. Writing in general is on hold until I get over it. <br/>***<br/>5/2/17 slow going school is hard and finals are hard :c I'm hoping to be able to have some time to myself to churn this out though! I've already quadrupled word count in chapters 1/what i have of 2, so by the time i'm done with this i'm guessing the total word count as of yet will be over 100k! it's a good time even if it's hard and slow-going<br/>6/8/17 Still going, trying not to be killed by spring semester. I've accidentally created a monster and that monster is a (currently) 15k rewrite just of chapters 1 and 2. It's gonna sound so good once it's all done c:<br/>Current rewrite progress: 2/10 chapters completed (will be all uploaded together when completed)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy here we go. I've been sitting on this wingfic for a while now, so it's going to be a doozy. And so it begins!!!  
> MUCH THANKS TO MY BETA DJ AKA RADIOJAMMING ON TUMBLR AKA CLOCKWORKCOURIER ON HERE FOR BEING THE BEST BETA
> 
> edit: the first few chapters are under some construction, but don't worry! it will still all read the same by the time i'm done with editing. Said edits will be coming out at the same time, as to not make a huge disparity of writing ability.

_From the beginning, Armin knew he was different. Grandpa had told him that what he had was special, and those that were special got killed. He knew that they had to be kept secret, that he must never ever use them publicly. For years, the painful pang that accompanied them always brought fear to Armin's heart. No matter where he was, or who he was with, Armin would sprint off and hide until it was over. Those close to him would ask why he always had to leave so suddenly, and when Armin couldn't give them an answer, eventually they would leave. He became more and more reclusive, turning to his books instead of turning to make friends. Why try when everyone would eventually reject you?_

_At least, most of them did._

_When Eren and Mikasa stopped questioning him, Armin was sure they would leave like all the others. When they didn't, Armin knew that he had finally found those that would accept him. However, one thing was for certain:_

_His friends could never find out his secret, lest he lose them forever._

\---  
Armin woke up in a cold sweat, a shot of pain shooting down his spine. His heart pounded against his chest, a vague reminder of the nightmare he suffered. Where was he? Oh, that's right, the barracks of the Survey Corps. Jean was mumbling in his sleep next to him. Armin thought he heard Jean throw a couple of swears at him for waking him up. 

"Sorry Jean," Armin whispered back to the tossing figure. He swung his legs over the bedside and stumbled as he stood up. Why was he awake anyway? He was never this alert after a nightmare. Armin padded his way towards the door. Walking around always seemed to help him calm down. Maybe he just needed to walk around the twisting corridors of the castle for a bit to tire him out enough to go back to sleep. 

Armin quietly exited out of the sleeping quarters, making sure to make as little noise as possible shutting the thick door. Connie had a bad habit of slamming the door whenever he went out, which in turn usually woke everyone up. Armin sighed, and started to walk towards the mess hall. His heavy steps took him towards the cabinets, grabbing a candle to light so he wouldn't trip over his feet. Armin wondered briefly if he could make himself a cup of chamomile tea, but decided against it. Corporal Levi wouldn't be too happy if he found out that Armin used precious supplies in order to indulge in a midnight cup of tea. Plus, he didn't feel like cleaning out the kettle at this time of night. 

The flickering candle threw wavering figures on the walls, creating a shadowy entourage for Armin. He hooked a left, towards the supply rooms. Nobody really hung out down there, especially at this time of night, which was perfect for someone who didn't want any confrontation. Rumor was that occasionally Corporal Levi roamed the supply halls on days when he wanted nothing to do with other people. Armin smiled. Levi wasn't as scary as everyone made him out to be. He was actually nice company when he decided to open up. 

Another ripple of pain down his back brought Armin out of his reverie. 

_Oh no._

How long had it been? Weeks? Months? _I thought joining the Survey Corps would've finished this!_ Armin thought petulantly. He hurried along the hall, checking door after door, only to find them all locked. He tried the last door, slamming his weight into the old creaky wood. The door screeched, the old rusty lock giving away, and swung open on protesting hinges. 

Armin yelped and fell on the floor, barely able to catch himself on his hands. The candle he was carrying rolled on the cold stones on the ground. Armin quickly grabbed it, trying to keep the small flame from dying out, burning his hand on the hot wax in the process. 

He lifted up his small light, observing the room that would be his prison for the next little while. Bottles of bleach lined the wall, along with extra fabric for clothing repairs, and some old frayed tents in a box labeled Patching Supplies. 

"Just an old supply room," Armin breathed, shutting the door behind him the best he could. A few rogue boxes were placed in front of the door to help keep it closed. 

Pain cascaded down his back, making Armin violently shiver. He fell to his knees, whimpering. Did it always hurt this terribly? Tears stung his eyes as Armin shakily stood up, using the shelf as support. He shuffled over to the place where the clean rags were stored, grabbing one to gag himself with. Armin sunk to his knees, setting the candle a ways off on the floor. Uncoordinated hands struggled to tie the knot for the rag hastily stuffed into his mouth to muffle the inevitable screams. 

Armin's back shuddered as the steely knife of violent agony dug itself deeper into his spine. _Any moment now._ Armin dug his nails into the palm of his hand, wincing around the cloth in his mouth. A warmth originating from his core began to radiate outward, joining the spasms of pain that wracked his body. Steam began to rise off of his back. 

Then suddenly, nothing. 

Armin squeezed his eyes shut, biting down hard on the cloth. He could feel it coming, _he could feel them starting to burn through him!_

Armin screamed as every nerve in his body simultaneously burst into a fiery pain. His back arched out in it's own accord, Armin's body a slave to the sheer agony that controlled him. Two white hot pokers stabbed into his back, shearing through his skin. Steam filled the room, hissing in harmony to Armin's tortured screams. 

The wings finally escaped their prison, bursting free from Armin's back. Feathers filled what was left of his vision, one side white, one side black. The pain subsided, leaving Armin crumpled on the ground, heaving for breath through his sobs. The wings, _his wings_ Armin reminded himself, enveloped him, the tips red from the blood dripping off of them still. "You cursed things," Armin hissed to them, slowly sitting himself back up. His nightshirt was soaked with sweat and blood; he could feel the cold fluids drip off his back. Hazy steam filled the room, stinging his eyes as he blinked the tears out of them. 

Unconsciously, Armin wrapped his wings around him, creating a warm cocoon where he could recuperate. The right wing, the one with the pure white feathers, were still tinged red with the blood lazily evaporating off of them. Armin ran his fingers through it, straightening out the quills and rubbing off the rest of the blood. He moved onto the left wing, the blue-black iridescent feathers hiding the blood better. Armin absently ran his hands through the feathers, the motion of straightening the quills and cleaning the feathers calming his thundering heart and racing mind. His hands, now sufficiently steady, went up to undo the rag tied around his mouth. Armin sighed, dropping the rag onto the floor next to the miraculously still burning candle. He would have to take care of the rag once the wings went away. 

Armin stood up, grabbing the shelf next to him for support, his feathers rustling around him. Taking care to not knock the candle over, Armin stretched his wings. The 3 meter wingspan easily filled most of the small supply room. The muscles strained, a small shock of pins and needles running up and down the wings. Armin winced, but this was manageable pain compared to before. His heart still thumped wildly in his ears, coupled with the footsteps Armin could hear.

Wait, footsteps?

Armin swore under his breath. _Of all the days for someone to be up late roaming around, it had to be today!_ He whirled around, praying for a sharp object to cut the wings off with. The torment of cutting off the wings would be definitely better than having someone find out about them, even if it would hurt worse than the suffering of having them appear in the first place. Unfortunately, not a single remotely sharp object was in the room. The footsteps were coming ever closer. 

Armin crouched on the ground, close to the supply shelves, and blew out the candle. His only hope was that whoever was walking around either didn't check the doors, or mistook him as a random supply object. 

The door rattled, making Armin jump. His wings knocked the shelf above him, rattling the bottles of bleach perched above him. 

"If you're mixing bleach and ammonia I swear to god you are going to wish you would have been eaten by a Titan," Levi's deadpan voice rose over the sound of his footsteps. 

Armin squeezed himself farther between the boxes. _If Levi looks in here, I'm dead._ Levi's meticulous habits were well known, and if he saw anything out of place, well, Armin was in trouble. 

_Not like I'm already in trouble,_ he grimaced, pulling his wings closer to his body. He could hear Levi opening and closing the doors, probably doing a quick check of each room before moving on. The door next to his room slammed shut. Armin's breathing picked up, and he sank back into his feathers, hoping the deep black of his left wing would sufficiently block him from scrutiny. 

The doorknob turned, and Levi could be heard swearing on the other side as the boxes Armin had placed held it shut. He heard Levi slam his weight into the door, the wood cracking, the boxes sliding. 

Too late, Armin noticed the rag he had used in the middle of the floor, along with the cooling candle. 

The door burst open, the damning evidence on the ground for Levi to investigate. He crouched down, carefully inspecting the items. "Whoever is in here," he said cooly, "would best come out and explain this to me."

Armin stopped breathing, hoping for a miracle. 

Levi slowly stood up, raising his light to further inspect the room. One step towards the supply shelves, his eyes noticing the few bleach bottles out of alignment. Another step to the left, a small gap between the boxes of fabric. A scrutinized glance, since when did the corps get a feathery sort of material? 

_Please don't move down, please don't move down, please don't move down,_ Armin pleaded in vain as he saw Levi's knees buckle to check his hiding spot. 

Levi stiffened as his eyes met Armin's. "Armin?"

"Y-yessir?" Armin replied weakly. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Levi's piercing gaze required an answer. 

"Um, resting sir," was Armin's weak excuse. The words felt incredibly fake even as they left Armin's mouth. 

"Get up." Levi's tone left no room for questioning. He turned around, heading for the door, looking back expectantly at Armin. 

"Sorry, but I don't believe I shou-" Armin began. 

"Armin Arlert, get up this instant, or I will personally skin your corpse and feed your remains to the Titans," Levi snapped. 

_I'm dead,_ Armin thought as he squeezed out of his hiding place, a flurry of feathers following him. He stood up, eyes downcast as his wings wilted around him. 

It was imperceptible to the untrained eye, but Armin caught Levi's widened eyes, the way his grip on his candle tightened, his clenched jaw. Armin was now a force to be feared, a wildcard in the perfectly planned hand of Corporal Levi. "Come with me," Levi said tersely, leading the way out the door. 

"Yessir," Armin whispered, following silently behind him. His hands jumped to his feathers, petting them out, smoothing the kinks, calming his mind as Levi led them up the stairs to the Special Ops Squad mess hall. 

"Sit down," Levi gestured to one of the chairs. Armin fell heavily into the one closest to him. His knees were feeling rather weak. _He knows, someone else knows and I'm going to be sent to the capitol and no longer have human rights and be dissected or vivisected or used as a military weapon or worse,_ Armin's mind helpfully supplied him. 

The scraping of wood against stone broke Armin's train of thought. Levi perched on the edge of the seat directly across from him. "Mint or chamomile?"

What. "Excuse me?" Armin asked, a belated "sir" tacked on to the end. 

"Tea. Mint or chamomile?" Levi repeated, staring down Armin. 

Armin gripped his knees, looking down. "Chamomile, please." Levi got up, turning to the pantry to fetch the tea.

 _My secret is out, Levi knows, and he's making me tea?_ Armin shook his head, dumbfounded. This didn't make any sense. He slumped back into the chair. His wings curled around him, and Armin found himself stroking through the feathers again. 

"How long?" Levi asked, gesturing to the wings with the water-filled kettle a long silence later. 

Armin jumped at his voice, head snapping up. "Huh? Oh. They've been around since, well, since as long as I can remember." 

"Can you fly?" 

Armin grimaced, "No. Too dangerous. Never learned how."

Levi replied with a thoughtful hum. 

Armin leaned forward onto the table, putting his head into his arms. "They're pretty useless, if you ask me," he said. "I can't even fly because they're too weak. The only way I could would be if they were out every day and I worked on strength training." Armin beat his wings twice for emphasis. The candle flickered in the created wind. "I can't do that, though. I can't even control when they come and go, and that's not even going into the issue of having them in the first place. Humans aren't supposed to have wings. At least Eren's Titan makes some sort of sense."

Levi stalked over, teacups in hand. He warily came up to Armin's right side, carefully setting down the teacup in front of Armin. "Aren't you going to change your shirt?" he asked, noticing the blood and grime stuck to it. 

"I um, can't get it off," Armin dipped his head. "The wings connect through the shirt somehow, like how Eren's Titan connects through his clothes." 

"So you just have to soak in your own filth?" Levi sat across from Armin, taking a sip of tea. 

"Yes." Armin straightened up, taking the teacup in his hands. He took a sip. The tea was still too hot, and it burned his throat as he swallowed. He breathed in the flowery scent at an attempt to relax himself further. Silence covered the room like a thick blanket. 

"We're going to have to do something about those," Levi said, leaning back into his chair. 

"S-sir?" The shaking teacup in Armin's hands betrayed his terror.

Levi took a long sip. Time seemed to stretch as flashes of Eren's tribunal and the blind terror of the witnesses overran Armin's mind. He slapped the wings away even as they curled upon his body, a heavy reminder that Armin wasn't fully human. 

"Of course. You've provided an opportunity for us that is unprecedented. With your, _abilities,_ as it were, our plans to get to Shiganshina and retake Wall Maria could be sped up exponentially."

Armin abruptly stood up, his eyes widening in shock, his wings arching over him and fluffing out. "You can't be serious! I-I'd be killed! You saw how the other factions reacted to Eren! We're already discredited enough as it is, how would throwing in another non-human help the corps?" 

"Who said they would find out?" Levi's eyes glinted dangerously in the dim candlelight. 

Armin sunk back into his chair. "It's incredibly risky. Would the payoff be worth the risk?" He put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. "I mean, is it smart to base the entire continuation of the life of the corps on me, of all people?"

"Armin, our entire corps is based on risky maneuvers. If there is even the smallest chance that we can further humanity, I will take it. With this, we can dramatically decrease unneeded deaths in the reclamation of Wall Maria. Instead of wasting lives trying to make a trail to Shiganshina, you can scout out ahead and we can avoid most, if not all, dangers on our way there." Levi brought the teacup to his lips, staring at Armin intently. 

"Sir, I-" Armin stopped suddenly, doubling over. The wings hissed as steam rose off of them. Armin whimpered as the feathers began to evaporate. He gripped his knees, sweat shining on his forehead. The steam dissipated, the wings gone, leaving Armin looking smaller than ever. He shakily took a breath. 

"Interesting," Levi hummed, draining the rest of his cup. 

Armin grasped for the tea, seeking solace in the sweet liquid. He downed it in one gulp, desperate to leave the room. White-knuckled, he set the empty cup on the plate, the harsh clack of the porcelain startling him. 

"You never finished what you were going to say," Levi said. 

Armin stood up, turning to the door. He was exhausted and wanted to go to bed. "Please, just forget about them," he whispered as he exited. 

"I make no promises, Arlert."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY CRAPOLI THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR ALL THE KUDOS AND COMMENTS?? I wasn't expecting such a fantastic welcome by y'all like wow thanks I was squeeing in my chair forever.
> 
> AS ALWAYS thanks to my awesomesauce beta DJ aka radiojamming aka clockworkcourier for helping me get this along and supplying me with good words. Go read her stuff if you haven't yet because it's awesome and she's awesome.

_Armin twisted in the air, falling faster towards the ground, a rocky expanse ready to swallow him up. His wings were splayed outwards, refusing to catch the wind to keep him aloft. Crimson droplets of blood hung suspended around him, seeming to fall up as a mockery of Armin's inability to fly. He screamed, the cold, rushing air shoving its fingers down his throat, robbing his breath._

_Armin turned his head to his wings. To his horror, they were dissolving, the steam meeting the blood and forming dark red storm clouds above him. Below him, the ground twisted and the rocks grew sharper, great spires ready to pierce through his body, to cleave him in two. Armin squeezed his eyes shut, tears flowing out of his eyes and into the sky. The wind peeled his eyes open again. Great spires of rock turned to steely ashen blades, to brown shingled rooftops, then to a gaping mouth, ready to devour him whole._

_A hand plucked Armin out of the sky. Seven figures watched him on a distant rooftop as he was lifted above the Titan's mouth. Armin could make out the faces. Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Levi, his grandfather, his parents. None moved to help him._

_The fingers pinching the cloth of his jacket let go, and Armin fell onto the mass of slimy tongue, screaming._

_"Monster, monster," Armin could hear the voices chanting as he slipped farther towards the Titan's throat. "Useless, useless." A new voice could be heard over the chants. "Humanity will be purified with his death," the voice said._

_Armin grabbed desperately for any purchase, any escape. There was too much saliva covering him for his hands to be of any use. He could see Eren through the Titan's mouth, laughing at him. "You're not strong enough, Armin," he grinned. "You never were."_

_The Titan swallowed, and Armin was falling again through the darkness. A voice cut through the blackness._

_"Come on, Armin."_

_He splashed into the Titan's stomach. Bodies floated around him, each in various stages of decomposition._

_"Armin. Armin," the corpses sang as Armin took a step back, hyperventilating. The liquid rose up, burning his body as it sloshed past his neck._

_"Armin!"_

_Armin shivered and shook as the liquid rose past his chin, eating at his body. Tears - or was that blood? - ran down his face as he sobbed, closing his eyes as the burning fluid entered his throat and closed above his head._

"ARMIN!"

Armin opened his eyes with a start. Jean hovered over him, his hands grasping his shoulders, shaking him once again for good measure. 

Armin took a deep breath, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

"Fucking finally!" Jean said. "We're supposed to be ready for today's assignments in ten minutes! Shake a leg and get going, Mr. Beauty Sleep."

Jean hopped off the bunk, making his way out the door. 

Armin slowly sat up. He put a hand over his bare chest, reminding himself to _breathe._

"I didn't know you slept bare-chested," Connie quipped as he pulled on his boots. 

"Oh, um, it was pretty hot last night," Armin said as he stood up to get dressed for the day. He shoved his bloody nightshirt farther under the covers as he made his bed. _I'm going to have to take care of that really soon, before someone finds it._

"Really? Maybe you have some thick skin, because I was shivering my way through last night," Connie said. 

"Or maybe it's because you sleep right under the window," Armin replied, doing up the last few buttons on his shirt. In truth, the weather was unseasonably cold, and Armin had shivered his way to sleep, not wanting to chance running into Levi again looking for a spare nightshirt. 

"Whatever, man." Connie slammed the door shut. The room was now devoid of people besides Armin. 

Armin sighed as he methodically tightened the straps of the maneuver gear harness. He did a quick once-over for wear and tear, knowing full well what could happen if one of the belts snapped during training, or worse, during battle. He shivered, the memory of his nightmare still not fully out of his head. 

Shrugging on his jacket and stifling a yawn, Armin left the room to line up with the others. He tiredly combed his fingers through his hair, and gave up after coming in contact with more than a few knots. 

“Glad to see you could join the rest of us mortals,” Sasha grinned as Armin slipped into parade rest next to Mikasa. “I wasn’t aware you could sleep longer than Connie.”

Connie elbowed her in response. “As a growing man, I need all the rest I can get.”

"Isn't more than ten hours unhealthy for you?" Jean smirked. 

"Are you feeling okay?" Mikasa asked Armin as Connie and Jean argued beside him. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm feeling-" A yawn interrupted him, "j-just peachy." 

"It's not like you to be up so late," Mikasa said, unconvinced. 

"I had a late night last night." Armin shuffled his weight from foot to foot. Where was the sergeant to tell them what they were doing today? 

Mikasa hummed skeptically in reply, but didn't press the issue. Instead, she busied herself with combing out the knots in Armin's hair, much to his dismay. He tried to dodge out of the way, but Mikasa was far too quick and nimble for him to avoid. "You have a bad case of bed head," she tsked as she ran her fingers through a giant clump of knotted hair. 

Armin merely grunted in response. He wasn't in the mood for morning banter. 

"Hey, there you are, Armin!" Eren shouldered his way in between Jean and Armin. "I was just talking with Reiner and Bertholdt about what I heard last night. Rumor says you weren't sleeping well so maybe you can vouch for my side."

Armin turned his head to face him, pulling his head out of Mikasa's fingers. "What happened?"

"Well last night I woke up sometime in the middle of the night, you know it's hard to tell exactly what time in that dark dungeon, and I thought I heard someone screaming last night. It sounded like it was near the supply rooms."

Armin stiffened. _Fantastic._ "I-I didn't hear any screaming last night. Are you sure you didn't just imagine it?"

Eren's face fell. "Maybe I did. I could’ve sworn I heard something though.” 

“You’re probably just stressed out, Eren. Have you been sleeping well?” 

Eren shook his head. “No, not after what happened in Stohess, and Annie,” he trailed off, troubled.

“It’s okay, Eren,” Mikasa chimed in. “Let’s just focus on what we have to do now. Annie isn’t going to be a problem now.”

“What are we even supposed to be doing now? Aren’t we on probation?”

“We’re on probation for expeditions right now. Doesn’t mean we can just sit around and do nothing all day,” Armin said. “Did you ever pay attention in our theoretical classes?”

Eren shifted his eyes. “So how about that weather?”

“Attention!” a voice barked from the end of the hall.

Everyone instantly snapped into a salute, conversations ending mid-sentence. 

Levi stepped into view. “Good to know you brats are still able to listen commands.” He stalked down the line, the tap-tap of his boots starting to echo Armin’s pounding heartbeat. 

_He won’t say anything, he wouldn’t dare say anything, everyone is still trying to recover from Stohess there’s no way he would add more stress._ Armin tried to reason with himself.

“As I’m all sure you’ve heard now,” Levi drawled, “we’re on probation because the brass wasn’t too happy with our little escapade we put on for them.” His piercing eyes fell on Eren.

Eren flinched. Armin could tell he was breathing lighter, trying to avoid the Corporal’s anger by unconsciously closing in on himself.

He could feel himself doing the same.

“So, instead of preparing for our next expedition that was supposed to take place three weeks from now, we’ll just be working on advanced maneuvers.”

Armin let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“However,” Levi stopped in front of Armin, “Eren, today you’re with Hanji.”

Eren blanched. “Y-yes sir,” he gulped.

“We can’t have a rogue Titan on our hands, now can we?” Levi smirked. “We were specifically told you need to have that Titan of yours perfectly controlled before we’re able to continue missions. So don’t screw it up for the rest of us.”

Eren gave a terse nod.

“Everyone else will be reporting to the west fields in thirty minutes. Breakfast is ready in the mess hall.” Levi turned to leave. “And Armin?”

“Yes sir?” Armin stuttered. 

“You will not be reporting to the west field in thirty minutes. Today you’re working with me. Report to my office in fifteen minutes. Dismissed.” Levi left the hallway.

Armin’s knees buckled. _I should’ve known he wouldn’t have just let the wings drop. Now I’m in trouble._

He felt a hand clap down on his shoulder. “Armin, you’re going to be fine,” Eren said. “You’re probably just going over tactical stuff, since you’re good at that sort of thing. I doubt he’ll beat you up or anything.”

 _I wish is was only tactical stuff._ “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Armin said, his voice wavering. “Let’s get breakfast.”

\--------

Armin stood pensively in front of Levi’s office. At breakfast, everyone had congratulated him on being able to work personally with the Corporal, how lucky he was to be able to skip out on what was going to be a grueling practice session. He had felt sick returning compliments, giving out fake smiles to his friends. He’d left early, hurriedly finishing up his meal in order to escape the oppressive atmosphere. 

Now he wasn’t so sure why he decided hurrying his fate was better than faking happiness.

_Come on, Armin. You’re going to be fine. He was okay with them last night, he isn’t going to kill you or anything. If anything, you’ll just be taken in as another mindless military weapon, that’s not so bad. At least you’ll live. At least..._

No, this was arguably one of the worst things he had ever been through. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. His stomach churned; breakfast was definitely not sitting well with him.

 _Let’s just get this over with. Nice and quick, like taking off a bandage._ Armin rapped on the door before he was able to talk himself out of it.

The heavy oak door swung open on well-oiled hinges. “You’re here early,” Levi stated. 

“I, uh, yeah. I’m here early,” Armin eloquently said. He shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

“Well don’t just stand there.” Levi herded him in. The door slammed shut, sealing Armin’s fate. Levi stalked back to his desk. “Sit down,” he said, gesturing to a sad looking chair in front of the desk. It seemed as out of place in the well-kept office as Armin felt.

He perched on the edge of the chair. It squeaked in protest, the poor wood squirming beneath him. It felt as though it could snap at any moment. 

"Catch." An object flew towards Armin's face. He yelped, and years of conditioning was the only reason he was able to deftly catch the object as it spun through the air. 

"A knife?" He pulled off the leather covering. The steel blade reflected the sunlight coming in through the window. 

"No, it's a feather duster," Levi said flatly. He walked over to the window, drawing the curtains. He sat down in front of Armin, leaning forward on the desk. "You told me last night you weren't able to control the wings. I conjecture it might be the same way Eren summons his Titan."

 _I was right. I'm just a specialized tool now._ "Why not just have me bite my hand then?"

"What's more believable? Bite marks on your hand or an 'accidental' paper cut?" 

Armin looked down at his knees. “If we’re also going with the assumption that they are like Eren’s Titan, then that means I have to have a goal in mind.”

“Correct.”

Armin swallowed, looking at the innocent knife gleaming in the palm of his hand. _In order to fight monsters, one has to throw aside their humanity. I told Eren that. I should be able to follow my own advice._

Armin closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax.

_In order to fight monsters..._

He focused on the wings, how they felt on his back, how the wind played through his feathers, begging him to take to the skies. They were an extension of himself, they were as easy to command as walking. They were his. 

_The wings were his._

Armin let the blade slice through his index finger. A hiss of steam followed, and the wings exploded from his back. There was no blood on the feathers this time. He grimaced as he stretched them out, well aware of Levi’s eyes watching him intently.

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Levi said. He finally broke eye contact with Armin, leaning over to rummage through a desk drawer.

“I guess not,” he replied, leaning carefully back into the chair. He began to pick through his feathers, threading his hands in between the quills and then gently moving them into place.

A clatter of metal against wood made Armin snap his head back up. A pair of forearm bracers covered in a lustrous black metal sat on the desk. There was an intricate design carved in the metal, studded with rubies and gold trim, complementing the dark leather peeking out between the breaks of metal.

“I was planning on saving these in order to sell them if the Corps ever got tight on money,” Levi began, “but perhaps they’ll finally see some use.” Levi lifted one of the bracers, handing it to Armin.

“These are pretty heavy,” Armin commented, hefting it. He had expected a lighter metal; forearm bracers usually weren’t this dense.

“4 kilos each. The pigs in Sina like to boast about how rich and powerful they are. These used to belong to a bodyguard to one of the more important houses.”

Armin nodded; he had some knowledge on the Sina house politics. Bodyguards weren’t uncommon in protecting the powerful house masters from assassination. He set the bracer back down on the desk.

“A waste of materials, if you ask me. These could’ve been used for something useful, but instead some idiot decided it would look better on their fat arms. Tungsten doesn’t come cheap, you know.” Levi picked up both of the bracers, tucking them under his arm as he walked over to where Armin was sitting. “Luckily this is made out of one of the more common blends, so Hanji told me. Only grade C2 tungsten carbide. Pity. Could've been used for military rounds or machining tools."

"How did you get them?"

A faint smile ghosted on Levi's lips. "Its owner met a, ah, rather untimely demise. Here, stretch out your wing."

Armin did as commanded. He could hear Levi letting out a disappointed hum behind him. "A bit smaller than I would like, but it will have to do." 

"Sir?"

"Can you strap these to the forearm of your wings?" Levi handed the bracers to Armin. 

Armin stretched his wing in front of him. He placed the bracer on it, wrapping the leather belt carefully underneath his feathers, then tightening it in place. He did the same for the other wing.

The bracers were cumbersome on his wings. The muscles quivered, and Armin folded them into a more comfortable position where the extra weight wasn’t so bothersome. 

“Stand up,” Levi said, returning to the desk.

The chair squeaked in delight in having it’s burden lessened. Armin hunched over, trying to get used to the load on the wings.

“Back straight. Don’t want to pull the wrong muscle.”

Armin shot him a look, straightening up. 

“Wings out. Keep them extended until you absolutely can’t anymore.” Levi’s eyes darted to his watch, then to Armin, and back again.

Armin lasted a good five minutes before the muscles started to protest in pain. He suffered through it, determined to stay strong as long as possible. He clenched his jaw. _I can do this, it’s just a little pain. I’ve been through far worse. I can hold up some blasted wings for more than five minutes._

Another four and a half minutes passed before the wings started to dip, and Levi called time. He scribbled a note on a piece of paper before turning his attention back to Armin. “Nine and a half minutes with 4 kilos. Not bad. I’d like to either increase the weight or the time by next week, however. Go lay down on the floor to relax your muscles.” 

Armin flopped on the ground. His arms sank into the softness of his feathers. He closed his eyes. 

The gentle scratching of pen on paper was the only sound that broke the silence.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Armin asked after a few minutes.

“Granted.”

Armin sat up. “You just seem so... unperturbed by this whole thing.” He motioned to his wings. “I mean, I get that you’ve been around and have seen some things, but I just don’t understand how you’re so _calm_ about this.”

Levi glanced up from his paperwork. “Armin, I’ve seen some shit. I’ve seen people getting eaten for years. I’ve seen people being killed for selfish reasons years before that. I’ve seen my friends be brutally murdered, and the loss of many innocent humans. I have jurisdiction over a kid who is also a Titan. What’s the big deal about some kid with bird wings? If I was still surprised over things like that, I would’ve been dead a long time ago.”

Armin dipped his head. “Thank you.”

Levi’s pen stopped. “For what?”

“For not flipping out.”

Levi stiffened, then returned to his paperwork. “All right, Arlert, enough talk. Get back up, let’s work on your downstroke.”

Armin smiled, “Gladly.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long to get up! ^^; I hit an unexpected block and it took me a couple days to get out of the funk. also, updates on rise will be posted into the fic: rise tag on tumblr, and if you are feeling brave you can follow my tumblr itself at gladiatoraviator.tumblr.com  
> Again, thank you everyone for your comments and kudos! also much thanks to my beta DJ! read her stuff if you haven't yet because you are missing out

Armin’s hair whipped his face as the sound of compressed gas and reeling steel wires filled his ears. _There!_ He shifted his weight to his other foot, the leather harness biting into the arch of his foot as he redirected his momentum. The end of the course was fast approaching. Armin grimaced, hitting the trigger and sending the grapples into their targets. He tensed, shifting his weight again in order to make the last sharp turn the course required. There was a sense of balance, a sense of grace, whenever the body was in tune enough in order to know exactly how far you had to throw your weight, how far you needed to _push_ yourself to fly through the third dimension of movement. 

Armin did not have that sense today.

He felt his body try to catch himself by moving a limb that currently did not exist, throwing out his already strained back. He cursed in the split second before he collided painfully with the branch that was supposed to be the finish of the maneuver. Lights danced behind his eyelids as he stumbled up, dazed.

“Armin! Are you okay?” Jean landed gracefully next to him. He offered a hand to help him up.

“Fine. I’m fine,” he wheezed, pointedly ignoring the hand stretched in front of him. _Today is definitely not my day. What else can go wrong?_

“Arlert!” Levi barked from below. “You call that a 270 degree hard point turn? I’ve seen daffodils with more dexterity and competence than you!”

 _I need to stop tempting fate._ Armin grimaced. He returned to the ground, gritting his teeth. He started to rub small circles into his back, trying to ease the pervasive soreness that covered him. It had been three weeks since he had first started to work with the Corporal, and with each practice session with the wings, Armin had been losing valuable time learning the advanced maneuvers with the rest of the Corps. It was starting to show. 

"What was that?" Levi said, motioning with his head to the course.

"A failed maneuver," Armin responded mechanically, "I overshot the last turn and lost balance, thus making it impossible to land on the right spot with my momentum." He pursed his lips, eyes downcast.

"Did you even try to redirect yourself?"

Armin frowned. "I did, sir, but-"

"Your back?" Levi's voice hushed. 

"Yeah. I might've done something wrong in training yesterday," Armin responded in an equally quiet tone.

"Do we need to look into it?"

"I think with the increased weight yesterday I may have overworked them, or possibly put too much strain on my back."

"Should we change our regimen then?"

"No, I need to get used to it. How soon until-?”

“Soon. I was going to pull you out to talk about that.”

Armin’s brow furrowed. “Sir, not to be rude or anything but I’m falling behind in regular training. I thought you said it would be best for me to shorten our sessions for a while so I could catch up.”

Levi’s face darkened. “I know what I said. However, I believe this is important enough to skip that advice for today.”

 _And with that I’ll fall even farther behind!_ Armin dared not to speak his thoughts. “Are you sure this is the best course of action?”

“Positive.” Levi turned on his heel. “Erwin!”

Erwin turned to face them, keeping parade rest. “What is it, Levi?”

“I’m taking this brat with me to my office. Don’t wait for him to get back.”

Erwin hummed skeptically. “Levi, you know Arlert has been falling behind in practice lately. I was hoping he would be able to finish a session.”

“I’m helping him build up strengths that will be more useful to the Corps,” Levi huffed.

“And yet you never talk about what happens in these ‘sessions’ and what your plans are with them,” Erwin noted.

Levi glanced back at Armin. Armin's eyes widened. _No,_ his eye pleaded. _Not like this._ Levi pursed his lips. "We can't talk about it right now."

"Levi," Erwin warned. 

"Arlert, head to my office," Levi said without breaking eye contact with Erwin. 

Armin shuffled his feet. "But-"

_"Now."_

He bit his lip and scurried away, the gentle hiss of the 3DMG following his exit. 

"Now," Erwin said in a low voice, "Can you tell me what this is all about?"

"I stand by my last statement," Levi replied curtly. 

Erwin gave him a pointed look. "You know as full well as I do that we can't keep affording to do this. People are starting to talk. Saying that we're losing our credibility as leaders if one of our own can’t even keep up with the group." 

"I know."

"We can't afford any mistakes right now. An opening for a mission is going to happen soon, and we have to make sure these kids can do what's required."

"I know."

"Whether they can or not will determine the continuation or extermination of the Survey Corps."

"I know!" Levi snapped. He took a deep breath. "I know," he said quietly. 

Erwin frowned. "Then why can't you tell your commanding officer what's going on?"

"Do you trust me?" Levi said after a moment of silence. 

Erwin's face softened. "I wouldn't have named you corporal if I didn't."

Levi sighed, his shoulders slightly hunched forward with the weight of the secret. "It's not my secret to tell. Just, please, trust me on this."

Erwin quirked an eyebrow. "You are certain?"

"As certain as I dare to be," Levi replied softly. "It could be the difference between hundreds of lives, Erwin. I just need more time."

"A commodity we are slowly running out of," Erwin turned to look at the soldiers flying through the course. "You will tell me what you're planning when the time comes."

It wasn't a question, though it could have been mistaken as such if one did not know Erwin Smith. His demeanor commanded his presence. Complete obedience. There was no tricking the commander of the Survey Corps. 

Levi knew this full well. He stiffened, considering for a small moment to just not tell him. A futile desire. Armin's secret wasn't worth losing the commander's trust. "I will." 

Erwin gave a single nod, and walked away. 

Levi looked at the ground. _I hope I’m right. This is all we have left._

He didn’t feel any better for having to be the man to do it, however.

\--------

Eren landed on the finish of the course next to Jean. He noticed the commander and the corporal, each looking at the other like two bandits with knives at the other’s throat, locked in stalemate. 

"What do you think they're talking about?" Jean motioned to them. 

Eren shrugged. "Strategy, politics, overwhelming cleaning assignments? I don't really know."

"Whatever it is, they definitely aren't happy with each other," Jean said. "Just look at them--they look like two wet cats having a spat."

Eren hummed in agreement. 

“Also,” Jean paused, “Armin had to leave practice early again.”

“What?” Eren turned to face him, incredulous. “He was telling me today at breakfast that we wouldn’t have to leave early today. I was hoping we would be able to finish a session together.” Eren furrowed his brow. “I mean, with me having to do stuff with Hanji all the time and him being with the corporal so much, we haven’t had much time to actually do stuff together.”

“Do you know what’s going on?” Jean asked him.

Eren shook his head. “No idea. He always avoids the subject whenever we bring it up. Has he said anything about it to you?”

Jean grimaced. “If he hasn’t said anything to you, what makes you think he would tell me?”

“Well, you sleep with him,” Eren smirked.

“I don’t sleep _with_ him, I sleep _next_ to him!” Jean countered, blushing. “And no, he hasn’t told me anything.”

“He still talks in his sleep though, right?”

“More like the occasional groan that could be taken for words or a phrase. He’s not that talkative of a sleeper,” Jean said, rubbing his neck. “And before you ask, no, he hasn’t sleeptalked anything about these super secret meetings with Levi.” He took a deep breath. “I’m just glad he’s not thrashing around in his sleep anymore. Poor kid’s got a lot to deal with, it seems like.”

“Yeah,” Eren bit his lip. “If you could make a guess on what’s going on, what would that guess be?”

Jean ran a hand through his hair. “Personally? I think they’re training him up to become the next commander or at the very least a high ranked tactician. Think about it. Armin’s got a brilliant mind, and you know he isn’t exactly, well, physically gifted.”

Eren bristled. “Armin’s plenty strong.”

Jean held up a hand. “Hey, whoa, I’m not insulting him or anything, I’m just stating the facts. He's not strong but his mind definitely makes up for it. Without him... Well, I would definitely be dead, no questions asked." Jean shuddered, the sharp memory of almost being killed by the Female Titan surfaced to the forefront of his mind. "Armin is the best at quickly thinking up strategies that will save the most lives."

Eren nodded in agreement. "He's a marvel, that's for sure."

"Yeah." Jean folded his arms. "Looks like they're done arguing," he said, motioning to Levi leaving the grounds.

"Guess that means we have to get back to practice," Eren sighed. He was already tired of this course, and his body was feeling sore.

"At least we only have an hour left," Jean said. "Hey, I'll race you back to the beginning." 

Eren grinned. "You're on!"

\--------

Armin paced worriedly in Levi's office. Where was the corporal? What was he talking about with Erwin? Why were they taking so long?

Was he giving away his secret?

 _No, he wouldn't._ Armin thought. They had a deal. Levi wouldn't talk about his wings until Armin was ready. Armin was able to decide who should know, and when they should know. _They had a deal._

Didn't they?

Armin groaned in frustration. He hated not knowing what was going on. All he could hope for was that Levi was holding up his end of the bargain. He could trust Levi. He could...

Armin felt the suspicion burrow deeper into his being. _What I wouldn't give to know what was going on right now._ He had half a mind to march right back up to Levi and demand to know all the details. 

_Don't be ridiculous. You don't want to rile people up for no good reason._ Armin sighed, stopping and running a hand through his hair. He needed to calm down; thinking up of the worst case scenario wasn't going to help him at all. He had to trust Levi, for now. 

That still didn’t make him feel any less anxious. 

A rattle at the door made Armin jump. Levi walked in, his composure ragged. "We need to talk," he said, falling into the chair behind his desk. 

"What's going on?" Armin asked brusquely, barely keeping the frustration out of his tone. 

Levi looked pointedly at him.

"Sir," he tacked on. 

"We're out of time, Arlert. Erwin's reaching the end of his patience and wants to know what's going on."

Armin started. _This isn't good. I was hoping we wouldn't have to tell Erwin for a while. Who knows how ruthlessly he'll use me? Another inhuman tool, one that the government doesn't know about? I know I'm a soldier, meant to help further humanity, but with Erwin's plans, I'd be as good as just a simple pawn in a game of chess..._

"We're going to use Eren to help you fly," Levi said, pulling Armin out of his thoughts.

 _"What?"_

"And we're going to have to tell Erwin and Hanji about this new arrangement too. I will be speaking to them about this by the end of this week," Levi said. 

Armin furiously strode over to the corporal, placing his palms on the desk. "You told me I was going to be able to decide who knew," he said in a dangerously low voice. "That was the deal. Was that a lie, then?"

Levi didn’t meet his eyes. "A very important one." 

"For what? Safety? A false sense of security? The inability to trust your comrades?" Armin's voice was steadily rising. 

"I did it to protect-"

"Protect what?" Armin chuckled darkly. "Yourself? Your sense of importance?"

"Arlert, you are disobeying your immediate superior," Levi warned.

"Yeah? I thought I could trust you. I thought you would have the brains to know that my secret isn't really supposed to be on the radar! I thought you would actually be able to honor a promise!" 

"As corporal I have the right to make choices that is best for the whole of the Corps."

"And as a soldier, I have the right to decide if it would be too risky or not!" Armin yelled. "Does it feel good, corporal, to stab the backs of everyone who ever trusted you?"

"Arlert, _stand down,_ " Levi growled. 

"Did it feel good to watch all those soldiers get killed by Annie?" _I'm going too far._ "Did it feel good to know _you_ caused all of their deaths, because of your inability to put faith in your comrades?"

"Armin!" 

" _Did it feel good to watch your squad die?_ " Armin couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. "Oh, I heard what happened in the forest, straight from Eren. You sent so many men to die. You knew they were going to die, you knew they were nothing but bait! They didn't die honorable deaths on the battlefield, they died like pigs running to the slaughter! Even your own squad, your teammates! Like pawns on a chessboard, swept off by a careless hand! _You couldn't even trust your own squad with your plans--and they had been working with you for years!_ Gunther, Eld-"

"Armin, stop." Levi looked stricken. 

"Oulo-"

" _Stop._ " 

"Petra."

Levi abruptly stood up. "Get out of my office," he hissed. He swayed, curling his hands into fists.

Armin stopped himself. Instant remorse swelled up inside of him, turning his storm of anger into a flood of regret. "Sir-"

"I said get out of my office!" Levi practically shouted. He sunk back into his chair, wide-eyed. 

Armin took a step back, bringing a hand up to his heart. He escaped the room like a fleeing animal, horrified at his outburst. Was that sobbing he heard through the door, or was that just his imagination?

Armin walked a little ways down the hall, then leaned heavily against the wall. "What have I done?" he whispered. _It needed to be said,_ he tried to console himself. _No, that was petty, and now I've lost the only person who could understand this issue._ He sunk the the floor. Armin felt tears sting at his eyes. 

"My God, what have I done?" he whispered again as the tears slipped from his face, splashing against the unforgiving, cold stone floor beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats nervously*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've broken 1000 hits! Thank you everybody for reading and kudoing and yeah! Many mega thanks to my beta DJ who is still awesome and is a kind soul for listening to all my rise-related ranting. Shower her with love at her own ao3 account: clockwork courier :3
> 
> and now the moment you've all been waiting for

The steady thrum of unintelligible conversation punctuated by soft clinks of silverware against porcelain filled the mess hall. Armin sat despondently at a sad little table set apart from the rest of the squad, like a sick person quarantined away from the rest of society. He poked at his meal, the occasional bite finding its way to his mouth.

It had been hours since anyone had last seen Corporal Levi.

Oh, people had tried to ask him what had happened, what was going on, if Armin had any idea what had set the Corporal into his self-exile. They had closed in on him, like vultures circling closer, closer to their carrion meal. Armin would just shake his head, avert his eyes and go back to playing with his food. Eventually, they had caught on that he wasn't going to say anything, and left him alone to his thoughts. 

Armin sighed heavily, resting his head in one of his hands. _I did this,_ he thought, _Levi won't want anything to do with me now because I lost my head. Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

"Hey." Armin felt someone slide next to him. Eren leaned forward, making eye contact through Armin's hair. "Mind if I sit here?"

Armin looked up just as Mikasa sat down by his other side. He grunted noncommittally, suddenly very interested in his food. 

“I can’t believe it,” Eren said through a mouthful of bread. “We’re actually going to have _meat_ for dinner tomorrow! It’s not even a special day or anything.” He bumped shoulders with Armin as he grabbed his fork. “Ymir was talking about how someone on afternoon watch saw a group of deer roaming the area, and then they were able to lead the patrol to them. You should’ve seen Sasha’s face light up when she heard the good news.”

“That’s great, Eren,” Armin said dully. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Eren kept talking anyways. “After Jean heard about it, well, he’s going on and on about how one day when he has to do the watch then patrol shift he’ll shoot down one of those geese or pheasants that fly over us from time to time and let only our division eat it. After he gets the best cut of meat, of course.”

Armin sighed, stirring his fork aimlessly above his meal. He leaned towards Eren, wanting to seek comfort but unable to put his wants into words. Eren kept talking, flitting from one topic to the next, creating a new drumming of words that Armin could focus on, a familiar beat and cadence to latch his battered mind onto. It was comforting in a way that Armin felt he could never describe even if he wanted to. Like the waves of the sea he had read so much about. The rise and fall of consonants and vowels tapping against each other, crashing, beating, staccato anger against slurring happiness. He closed his eyes, focusing on the song without notes Eren was creating. 

“Hey, Armin, do you know what happened with Corporal Levi?” Eren asked suddenly, pulling Armin out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Armin fidgeted, pulling away from Eren.

“The corporal? He hasn’t been seen for hours now.”

Armin felt Mikasa put a hand on his knee, keeping him grounded. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” she said, pointedly glaring at Eren. 

"No, it's okay Mikasa," Armin looked down at his lap. "I-I sorta yelled at Levi. He did something I felt was wrong, and with the stress of what's been happening lately, I, um, snapped out at him."

Eren stared at him, wide-eyed. "You _yelled_ at the corporal?"

Armin pursed his lips. "Yeah. I did. I said some awful things too. If only I could just take those words back-"

The door slammed open, interrupting him. Levi stumbled in, peering over the heads of those in the hall, obviously looking for someone. 

Armin ducked his head. _Of all the days to be mistaken for Christa please let today be one of those days,_ he pleaded. Eren and Mikasa pressed against him, creating a barrier between fragile Armin and the harsh glare of Levi. 

The walls were futile, easily broken as Levi stalked towards their table. "Armin Arlert. Come with me," Levi said a little too stiffly. Mikasa squeezed her hand reassuringly against Armin's leg as he stood up, and Eren did the same with his hand. _I'll fight him if he does anything to you,_ Eren's gaze said as Armin stood up to follow. 

"On second thought, bring your little friends, too," Levi said, not turning to acknowledge them. 

Armin blanched. _He's going to tell them! As retribution of what I did earlier, maybe._ He bit his lip. _No, no. If Levi was going to do something to me, it would be far worse than just giving away my secret to my friends. At the very least, I can hope for acceptance from them... But then again, I’ve been dancing around this for years. Would they be mad at me for holding back for so long? Would they not trust me anymore? Will they..._

"Armin, it'll be okay," Eren said as he twined his fingers through his. Armin didn't realize how bad he was shaking until Eren anchored him through his touch. "We won't let him hurt you."

Mikasa nodded in agreement, her steps firm as they followed Levi down the corridor. Armin took a deep breath. _Don't think about it. Don't let yourself get worked up over things you can't control. Follow orders. Don't be emotional. Don't be scared. Just be._ He squeezed Eren's hand once, then let go. He focused on his steps. One, two. One, two. Levi was a half step off in front of him, so Armin took a deliberately large step to even out the syncopation. Left, right, left, right. 

_He's too stiff,_ Armin noted. Levi's characteristic straight-backed stride was a little too forced, his steps too pneumatic and mechanical. _Whatever he's up to, he's nervous._ He let himself break stride; Levi's was far too uncomfortable for Armin to keep following. _Either that or I upset him a lot more than I originally thought._

“Armin, a word please,” Levi said as he stepped into one of the supply rooms on his right.

Armin nodded. He turned to follow, putting a hand out to stop Eren and Mikasa from following him in too. “Guys, I think this is just meant for me. I’ll be fine.” _I hope._

They protested but stayed put as Armin closed the door behind him. Levi’s back faced him, hands clasped in parade rest. Armin swallowed. “Sir, I am so sorry about what happened earl-”

“Can it, Arlert. You know full well that’s why I didn’t bring you here,” Levi scowled. “Now sit down.” He pointed to the chair in the center of the room. 

“Doesn’t mean I still couldn’t hope for something different, sir,” Armin sighed, sinking into it. “But do we have to do it today?”

Levi turned to face him. “Armin, I know full well you don’t want to do this. But the longer you wait, the worse it’s going to get. We don’t have time to wait anymore. I know you wanted to show your friends first before anyone else. I’m keeping to that promise, at least.” 

Armin grimaced. “Sir, what if they don’t accept me? What if this I’m just imagining a storybook ending where my friends are completely okay with my secret? What if they don’t even see me as human anymore? What if-”

“ ‘What ifs’ are for fools,” Levi said forcefully. “If you keep only thinking of ‘what ifs,’ you’ll tear yourself down to shreds. ‘What ifs’ are for the weak, and if you are anything, Armin Arlert, you are not weak. Now, get your friends in here and let’s get this over with.” He stalked to the door and gestured for Eren and Mikasa to come in. They looked expectantly at Armin, who was now awkwardly sitting alone in the middle of the room. 

“Well?” Levi prodded.

Armin glanced at him, then turned his gaze to the floor. “I, um, I have something to tell you guys. Remember how when we were kids, how I would always have to leave suddenly? And how I never told you guys why?”

They nodded, confusion in their faces.

“Well,” Armin took a deep breath. _Here goes everything._ “Levi, the knife?” He was surprised at how confident his voice sounded.

Levi tossed him the blade, and before Armin could regret his decision, he screwed his eyes shut and called on the wings. Time seemed to slow. He could feel the warmth from his core spread outward, the wings _pushing_ from behind his back, the steam curling around him as his feathers filled the room.

He could hear the surprised gasps, but didn’t dare to open his eyes.

“Armin, they’re,” Mikasa grasped for words, “they’re beautiful!”

“You’re an angel,” Eren breathed reverently.

“I’m not an angel.” Armin opened his eyes to see his friends staring wide-eyed and slack jawed. He blushed, curling his wings around him. “I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid that you would leave me like everyone else. That I wasn’t worth being your friend, that I-”

“Can I touch them?” Eren blurted out. Mikasa elbowed him roughly.

“I-what?” Armin stopped abruptly, his feathers fluffing out in confusion.

Eren dipped his head, blushing. “I was just wondering if I could touch them,” he said hurriedly, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Um, sure I guess.” Armin shifted his weight on the chair, expanding his wings so Eren could touch them. Eren stood up from the floor, slowly approaching him. He carefully stepped around the wings splayed out on the floor, acting as if one misstep could break the comfortable silence in the room. 

Eren stretched out his hand, a massive expanse of black and white feathers awaiting his fingers. He hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay Armin? I don’t have to if you don’t want me to,” he asked, pulling his hand back a bit.

“It’s okay Eren, I’ll be fine,” Armin said, biting his lip. _I’ve never had anyone touch them before. It can’t be that bad, right?_

Eren’s hand hovered over the wings, his fingers curling. The feathers shifted as Armin leaned over, sighing in apprehension, putting his head in his hands. 

“Just get on with it, Jaeger,” Levi drawled, leaning against the wall in disinterest.

Eren shot a glare in the corporal’s direction, and plunged his hand into the expanse of wing. The feathers were soft and silky to the touch. He stroked gently at the base, feeling the hardy muscle underneath. A small noise escaped the back of Armin’s throat. 

“Does that feel good?” Eren asked as he reached his other hand in, moving around in slow circles towards the tip of the wings, straightening the barbs, running his fingers through the feathers over and over again. Armin hummed, leaning forward, stretching out his wings to give Eren easier access. 

“It’s so soft,” Eren murmured as he pushed the feathers into neat rows and columns, following the direction of the quills. “Mikasa, you have to feel this!” The feathers tickled at his skin, creating a sensation in his hands that was not unlike petting a soft cat. He continued, moving further up the wing, exploring into the vastness of Armin’s feathers. Mikasa stepped up beside him, stroking the feathers cautiously. She smiled, pulling back as Eren moved up and down the wings.

Armin shivered underneath Eren’s touch, a soft moan escaping from his lips. “This feels so good.” Definitely a million times better than preening himself, that’s for sure. Pleasurable sensation filled his body, easing the tension he had felt trying to explain himself to his friends. His breath hitched as Eren’s hand delicately stroked over the arch of his wing, feathers rippling with Armin’s increasing pleasure. Eren smiled, digging his hands in deeper, unscarred hands running over Armin’s downy feathers near the base where the wings connected to his back, massaging the muscles.

“Jaeger,” Levi’s voice broke the trance.

Eren lifted his hand off of Armin’s wing. “Sir?” he asked, turning to face him.

“Give the poor brat a rest. He looks like he’s about to climax or something,” Levi said, breaking away from the wall.

Eren stuttered in embarrassment as Levi grabbed his arm, returning to Armin’s front. Armin was still bent over the chair, his unblinking eyes half lidded, a dopey smile on his face, still heavily panting. Levi stepped over to him, roughly shaking his shoulder. “Wake up, Armin.”

Armin jumped, his wings flying open and smacking Eren in the face. A muffled “ow” was heard from Eren as his hands flew up to his nose.

“Back to the world of the living, Arlert?” 

Armin dipped his head, his face a furious red. “Sorry, Corporal. Won’t happen again.” He bit his lip, his face taking on a deeper shade of red, if possible. He cleared his throat, sitting back up and folding his wings behind him, in an attempt to gain a sense of normalcy.

“Eren, we have need of your Titan abilities to help him learn how to fly,” Levi said.

“You can’t fly?” Eren asked, crestfallen.

Armin shook his head. “That’s what the corporal and I have been working on. We were planning on maybe using the 3DMG in order to help me learn how to glide, but..." he trailed off.

"With the skill you've been expressing working with Hanji, I believe it would be better if you helped Armin's, ah, _predicament,_ by using your Titan to help him learn how to correctly move the air under his wings in order to fly," Levi stated. "And that way, if he happens to fall he'll have somebody be able to catch him."

Eren nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir! Armin, you-you could fly to Shiganshina! You could fly beyond the walls! _You could fly to the sea!_ "

"Eren, don't get in over your head," Mikasa said. She put a hand on his shoulder, stopping the tide of words rushing out. 

Armin smiled, grateful for Mikasa's intervention. "I don't think I'd have the stamina for that, Eren."

Levi shifted his weight. "He will be undertaking a solo mission to Shiganshina, however. Calm down, Arlert, don't get your feathers in a twist. I'm not done yet. It will be purely reconnaissance in nature, and I expect him to not engage in any fighting. That way, we can determine the best route to take when we do unlock that basement of yours, Jaeger."

"Wouldn't it be easier if Armin just took the key with him?" Mikasa ventured. 

Levi gruffly shook his head. "And if he somehow dies on his mission, how would we know where to go in order to recover it? Assuming he didn't get eaten, that is."

Armin winced. He folded his wings around him, a protection against the fear burrowing in him. _A solo mission? In the Survey Corps?_ he thought incredulously. _Who would’ve thought..._ “What’s your timeframe, sir?” he asked. 

“I’d like to have you out in a month at the latest,” Levi replied tersely. “So,” he turned to Eren, “we have to get started as soon as possible. Tomorrow I’ll be going after Erwin in order to take you three off to a more, _private,_ place to work.” He narrowed his eyes. “Armin, Hanji will probably have to join us for the sake of appearances, and Erwin will have to make periodic checks on us. You know what this entails.”

Armin dipped his head. “Yes, sir,” he said sullenly. 

“We’ll discuss this tomorrow before eight. I expect to see you outside of Erwin’s office by then. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good. That concludes my business.” Levi turned on his heel to leave. The door was open for only mere moments before it clicked back into place. Eren and Mikasa regarded Armin as he stood up and stretched, his wings filling out the small room. Mikasa brushed her hand against Armin’s wing as it past by her.

“So,” Eren broke the silence, “why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

Armin froze. _Because who wants to associate with a inhuman freak?_ “I... I was afraid of what could happen. Of losing my only friends.” He studied at the floor. The cobblestones had small specks of dirt hidden in the cracks, missed by whoever had cleaned the room last. “My parents... they and my grandfather were always telling me about how dangerous it was to tell anyone. And the longer we hung out, well, the more awkward it would have gotten to just thrust that upon you. I wanted... I just wanted to be treated as _human_ by everyone else.”

“Armin, did you really think we would have treated you as less of a person?” Mikasa said, her expression hurt. “Did you treat Eren as less than human when we found out he was the Titan? Did you think we would do such injustice to you with this?” She gestured to his wings.

Eren nodded fervently. “If anything, this makes you more,” he paused, his hands cycling the air in front of him, “ _you._ You’ve always been our friends. This doesn’t make anything different.” Eren embraced Armin, carefully threading his arms through his wings. Armin relaxed in his touch, returning the hug. “You’re still Armin, my best friend. Don’t ever forget that,” Eren whispered.

“Thank you,” Armin whispered back. “Thank you.” He pulled back, clearing his throat and wiping away watery eyes. “We should probably finish eating dinner, don’t you think?”

“What about-” Eren began.

Armin held out a hand. “I’m not going out like this. Give me a second.” He furrowed his brow, took a deep breath, and focused on the wings dissolving, hot steam against his skin as feathers disappeared into thin air. He looked back up, feeling small as his friends stared at him. He reached out to brush through feathers, but his hand only met against the last vestiges of steam in the air. 

Mikasa grabbed his and Eren’s hand, leading them out of the dusty supply room. “Thank you, Armin, for showing us,” she said as the two boys roughly pulled their hands back. “Now, let’s finish dinner.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear I apologize profusely for how late this chapter is. However said chapter is over twice as long as my previous longest chapter, knocking above 6k words! Real Life decided to hit and then I had some fun writer's block, but I'm pretty proud of this chapter and how it worked out yes. Again, much thanks to my beta DJ for being the best boss around! Go shower her with love at her own AO3 account: ClockworkCourier :3

Before eight had turned out to be a relative term. It was Sunday, their free day, and here Armin was standing in front of Erwin’s office waiting for Levi while everyone else was still happily asleep. _It’s at least 8:10 now,_ Armin thought. _I know at the very least Erwin and Hanji are in there. Where is Levi, then?_ Armin huffed a breath, folding his arms.

Moblit rushed past him, squeezing into the room for a few seconds before sliding back out, a haphazard stack of papers in his hand. Armin could feel the frustration bleed from Moblit as he heard him mutter under his breath something about _damn Hanji and her damn crazy experiments, does she want to kill us all?_ He smiled apologetically as he half-jogged past Armin. 

Hanji. Hanji was definitely going to be a joy to deal with, once this whole meeting thing happened. Armin ran his fingers through his hair. Eren had recounted how _downright creepy_ Hanji could be when she had something new to experiment on. 

_And is that what I am now? Something new to experiment on?_ Armin thought. He couldn’t imagine _Hanji_ running her hands through his feathers like how Eren had done. He shuddered, a pervasive sense of wrongness permeating his being. What could he do to prevent it? Was there even a way to keep her out of his space? Was that even possible?

A yelp from down the hall pulled Armin out of his reverie. He peered down the hallway. Levi apologized gruffly to Moblit as he bent down to pick up his used to be stack of papers from the ground. _Finally._

Armin straightened up and saluted the corporal. Levi waved him off. 

“Sir? If you don’t mind me inquiring, why are you so late?” Armin asked hesitantly.

Levi sighed. “Moblit always comes in to grab Hanji’s unfinished paperwork. I figured you wouldn’t want to be in the middle of things while he walked in.”

Armin scrunched his brow. “So have you just been waiting down the hallway?”

The edges of Levi’s mouth quirked up. “You’ve got to learn how to control your morning frustrations, kid. Did you pick up all your angry sighing from that Jaeger kid, or did he pick it up from you?”

Armin cast his glance to the floor, face reddening. He mumbled some excuse, turning to face the door. He swallowed, trying to calm the anxious beating of his heart. _Can’t turn back now,_ he thought as they strode into Erwin’s office.

"If we could get a better one from the Sina archives we could plan this mission so much-" Erwin cut off as Levi and Armin walked in. Erwin and Hanji were leaning over what looked to be like a map that covered the entirety of the desk. Notes crammed the edges of the paper, and thick lines of ink bled across different old roadways and thoroughfares, with cities marked in bright red. Erwin held a protractor in one hand and a black pen in another. Hanji held an old ragged book that looked to be held together with only spit and loose bits of twine. Armin tried to steal a glance of the spine, but the book either didn't have a title or it had been lost to the elements years ago. 

"You're here late," Erwin noted as he set the protractor down and straightened up. "Do I get the honor of an explanation this time, Levi?"

"This kid. That's the why." Levi shoved a finger in Armin's direction. 

"And why is he here?" Hanji gently shoved the old book into a cabinet. 

"Armin's going on a solo mission. To Shiganshina," Levi said bluntly. 

Erwin paused. "That has to be the most featherbrained idea I have ever heard. Please tell me you're joking." 

Levi didn't say a word.

Erwin gave him a look. "You can't be serious, Levi. You know that's essentially suicide, right?"

"You told me to tell you what I've been planning and this is it," Levi countered roughly. "Armin will be going on a solo mission to Shiganshina, mapping out the best and least lethal routes we can take, and which places would be the most fortified and useful as stops. That will be better than any map stuck rotting in the archives. We don't have to do this half blind anymore. This will save lives, Erwin."

"And how will he survive the hundreds of Titans no doubt crawling beyond the walls?" Hanji asked. "Commander is right, that's a death sentence, right there."

Levi turned to Armin. "It would be a death sentence. At least, if you were on the ground." He gave a small nod to Armin, turning back to face the commander. "What if I told you there was a way for him to stay off the ground for the whole duration of the mission? A way only he can accomplish?"

Erwin regarded Levi warily, his eyes flicking over to Armin for half a second. "Is this true, Arlert?" he asked, still keeping the corporal locked in his gaze. 

"Yes, sir," Armin replied quietly. He stared at the ground, fearing what would invariably happen next. 

The commander broke his gaze from the corporal, turning to face Armin, arms folded behind his back. Hanji leaned against a counter, curious, but not outright engaging. 

The next words from Erwin confirmed Armin's fears. "Show me."

Like a choreographed sequence, Armin pulled the knife out from his pocket, and let the blade slip on his flesh. The wings shot out behind him, steam filling the room. 

Erwin stiffened while Hanji practically jumped from her spot to where Armin was standing. She circled around him, her hands twitching towards the feathers as she whispered excitedly to herself. _I feel more like a show animal than a soldier right now,_ Armin grimaced as Hanji continued her almost hands-on study. It was disconcerting, to say in the least. 

"That's enough, Hanji," Erwin said roughly as Armin flinched away from her when she ran a hand down one of his primaries. "Levi, how long has this been going on for?" 

Levi shrugged. "A few weeks, maybe."

"Human experimentation was banned years ago, Levi. How did you manage this?" Erwin hissed, gesturing to Armin. 

Armin pulled himself in tighter. "It wasn't him, sir," he interrupted before Levi could speak. "I have always been like this. He only found out a few weeks ago." He folded his wings close to his body, shrinking away from Erwin's steely stare. 

Erwin clenched his jaw, breaking his gaze from Armin. "This is heresy, Levi. If the brass ever found out, that would be the end of us. Of everything we've ever stood for. There would be no chance of our survival."

"Then let's hope they don't find out," Levi replied darkly. His eyes dashed over Armin as Hanji sauntered over to Erwin, her eyes bright, but her expression unreadable. 

_Heretic,_ Armin heard a voice call to him from his past. _They were right. Just my existence is committing heresy. I'll be walking on eggshells my entire life just to make sure I can live. Not like I already wasn't, but the way Erwin is treating this... This idea of Levi's could be incredibly dangerous. The payoff could be worth it, depending on whether or not I survive. And even if I survive, I'd still be a danger to the Corps. Heretical ideas indeed..._

Erwin let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He began to roll up the map on his desk, his eyes periodically flicking towards Armin, running across his wings. The room was deathly silent, save for the sound of parchment crackling against itself. Tension hung in the air, creating a heavy stillness as Levi folded his arms across his back, standing uncomfortably straight, jaw tight and hands clenched. Hanji mimicked his position, albeit more relaxed, studying Armin’s minute movements with the eyes of a hawk. 

Armin swallowed, looking down at his feet, not wanting to meet any of the stares facing him. He stretched out his right wing in front of him and began running his hands through the feathers, finding comfort in the simple motions of straightening barbs and moving quills to their proper places. His breathing slowed, echoing the quiet rustling of feathers as his hands undulated through them. Soft, gentle movements, mirroring the way Erwin carefully finished rolling up the map and applied a dab of wax to keep it closed. 

"What's your plan, Levi?" Erwin asked with a sigh, breaking the silence of the room. 

Levi's head perked up, and he relaxed his posture slightly. There was a faint smirk on his lips. "My time table isn't too long. First, we get this brat up in the air and actually able to fly by simultaneously helping Eren hone his Titan abilities. Arlert will be able to glide without use of the maneuver gear by using Jaeger's monstrosity to help him get to the heights he needs and provide a safety measure to make sure he doesn't fall out of the sky, if he decides to do something stupid." Levi glanced back at Armin. "Of course, we'll have to do this in a more remote place where we won't be bothered. Oh, and we'll be taking Mikasa and Hanji along for propriety's sake."

Erwin arched an eyebrow. 

"A little strike force in case something goes wrong," Levi explained. "The official statement we'll be making is that us five will be helping Eren with his Titan training. However, I'm confident that nothing will go wrong at that front, and we won't have to worry about needing to cut out your friend from a raging Titan." Levi directed his last statement to Armin, who had since quietly moved on preening his other wing while listening with half an ear. 

"Where are you planning on doing this?" Hanji asked. 

"There's a small cabin conveniently located about a couple hour's ride away in this forest I figured it would be far enough, and inconvenient enough, that the brass wouldn't want to check up on us." Levi evenly held Erwin's gaze. "All that's left is just your word, Erwin."

Erwin's brow creased. "You better be right about this," he said. "Three weeks away. That's all I'll be able to give to you."

"We will leave as soon as possible," Levi replied. "Hanji, go get Jaeger and Ackerman. Prepare yourself too, and make sure you at least bathe before you leave; I won't be able to stand your stench for three whole weeks."

"Done!" Hanji saluted and left the room. 

"You too, Armin. Put those away and let's get going," Levi said. 

Armin nodded, mentally dismissing the wings and escaping the room. 

Levi turned back to Erwin, letting his mask break and his posture bend forward. Erwin motioned for him to sit down, and he did so gladly. Erwin rummaged through one of his desk drawers while Levi massaged his temples.

“I’ve been saving this for a rainy day,” Erwin began, bringing out a bottle, “and I figured today would be appropriate.” He handed the bottle to Levi.

Levi took it and smelled the contents. Whiskey. A commodity. He took a swig, letting the alcohol burn down his throat and warm his veins. Oh, how he wanted to get stupidly drunk, to forget everything pressing down on him for a few beautiful hours. He brought the bottle again to his lips, hesitating.

No. No, he was stronger than this.

“Thank you,” he croaked as he handed the drink back to Erwin. “But I’d rather not ride a horse while as drunk as it’s shitting behind. And can you imagine trying to deal with Jaeger while also nursing a hangover? I believe that is the definition of hell, right there. Ask Hanji to look it up sometime for me.”

Erwin gave a grunt of recognition as he took a sip. He then corked the bottle and put it back away, saving the rest of the contents for a later date. He leaned back into his chair, quietly studying Levi.

“I’m worried, Erwin,” Levi said a few heartbeats later. He scrunched his brow. “No, I’m not worried. I’m _terrified._ ” In a moment of weakness, Levi indulged his feelings. “We’re dangling from our nooses, raised up just enough to barely breathe. I don’t know how well this operation is going to go, if you can even call this clusterfuck an operation. I don’t teach kids how to control Titans or how to fly, I teach them how to kill. How to kill or be killed. And if Armin dies while outside the walls... You know how those three are, Erwin. We’d have to-” Levi paused, catching himself. _Armin was right. These soldiers of ours aren’t people, they’re pawns. They’ve always just been pawns to me. All I can see is how useful they’d be. Or how dangerous if not kept under my heel..._ “What you said earlier, if the brass found out about this, we might have to start preparing statements right now. I don’t want any pointless deaths.” _There’s been far too many of those under my watch already._

Erwin’s face slipped just enough for Levi to see the same fear mirrored in his eyes for a few moments. “What would we even tell them?” Erwin asked quietly.

“That we weren’t the ones to do this to him, I don’t know. Feign ignorance and pretend we had no clue this whole time?”

“That will either doom us or doom him, or both.”

“Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” Levi said softly. “I’ll think up of something. There must be a way to get all these kids out alive. They don’t deserve what the brass would do to them. I’ll think of something.” He rose from the chair, suddenly finding the office stuffy and uninviting.

“I’ll be counting on you to think of something, then,” Erwin said as the corporal opened the door.

“I’ll get these kids out alive,” Levi repeated. Lies. He wasn’t a god. He couldn’t save everyone. All lies.

Just another one to add to the pile.

\-----

Armin steered his horse towards Levi, who was saddling up in the staging grounds a little ways away. He saw Mikasa fall in line behind him. Even when going on a simple two hour ride, she clung to the familiar patterns of battle. He craned his head, but couldn’t see Eren or Hanji anywhere. 

“Where do you think they are?” Mikasa asked as rode up next to Armin.

“I don’t know,” Armin answered. “Either Levi will tell us or I’ll ask him. Let’s wait until he’s ready.” He slowed down his horse, stopping beside Levi as he swung into his saddle. His horse skittered beside Levi’s black beast. Funny, how she could charge between a Titan’s legs without wavering, yet a horse bigger than her would make her nervous. Armin patted the horse’s neck, calming her down. “Steady,” he said quietly.

"Let's go," Levi said, turning his horse and galloping away. Armin and Mikasa followed close behind him, creating a simple V pattern. Mikasa glanced at Armin, then back to the castle that was slowly disappearing into the distance. Armin caught her eye, giving her a shrug. 

"In case you two brats are wondering," Levi began, "Eren and Hanji will be joining us once we get clearance from the brass. I'm sure they're not too thrilled with the thought of Eren moving somewhere where they can't follow his every move." Levi slowed down his horse, falling in line between Armin and Mikasa. "He'll be here within a day or two. Erwin will convince them."

Sated with Levi's answer, Mikasa gave a single nod, then faced the pathway before her. 

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, each lost within their thoughts. 

The cabin was nestled in a grove of pines, a small dirt path leading up to it. It was made of fine, sturdy wood, and seemed to have enough rooms and then some to house the five visitors. The air was heavy with the scent of sap, filled with the undertone of musty undergrowth. Armin could swear he could feel the wind calling him to take to the skies as he dismounted from his mare. He paused, closing his eyes, letting the sun pulse over him and the wind brush through his hair. _What would it feel like, to fly close to the sun? To feel nothing but the wind holding me up?_

He would find out, soon enough. By every shred of his resolve, he would. 

"Arlert!" Levi barked as Armin tied his horse. He snapped into a salute. Levi stalked over to him. "Once you're away from the horses, get your wings out."

"But what if someone-" Armin began. 

"We're in the middle of nowhere. No one will be happening upon us unless they're Eren or Hanji. Possibly Erwin. Get your wings out, and that is an order. Am I understood?" Levi glared, enunciating the last three words with a venomous tone. 

Armin shrank back. "Understood," he replied quietly. 

"Good. We'll get the horses comfortable around you later. For now, get them out and don't dismiss them unless I tell you to. Ackerman!" Levi turned on his heel, leaving Armin alone with his horse. 

"Well, this is it," Armin said, putting a hand on the bridge of his horse's nose. He absentmindedly patted her, then tangled his hands through her mane. The mare nickered, twisting her head so Armin could scratch behind her ears. He smiled, looking into the mare's bright, intelligent eyes. "I don't really want to do this, you know? But for the good of everyone else, I have to swallow my fears and just do it." He brought his hand along the mare's sharp cheekbones. "I don't want people to be afraid of me. I don't want to be seen as an outcast. I want to be important, useful to humanity and all that, but I also don't want to have people look at me in fear. Ruling by fear, it's effective, but also so tenuous, you know? I don't want to rule by fear, by uncertainty of who's knife should I be worried about finding in my backside..." Armin trailed off, his hand slipping back down to his side. His mare gave a snort, nudging Armin's side. He started, jumping out of her way, grinning. "You're right, I should stop worrying and just go. Thank you for listening, even if you probably don't understand much of what I say." The mare neighed softly, then put her head down to nibble at the grass. 

Armin walked towards the cabin, then once out of range from the horses, he pulled out the small knife and let the wings burst forth from his back. He groaned, stretching his back and letting his wings expand to their fullest. Yawning, he folded his wings and went to find the corporal. 

Mikasa found him first, eyes widening at the sight she still wasn't used to. "Corporal Levi wants us to meet at a clearing over there," she said, her eyes drifting away from Armin's face to his feathers. "He said that we'll start your training while he fixes up the cabin." She turned, walking towards their destination. 

Armin nodded, following beside her. _What sort of fixing up does that cabin need? It looks sturdy enough..._ Who was he to decide what was good enough or not? Maybe there was a rotting truss that needed repair, or a rusty nail poking out in a wrong place, small disasters just waiting to happen. 

"Cleaning," Mikasa said simply. 

"What?" Armin asked, confused. 

"Cleaning," she repeated. "Corporal wants it cleaned spotless. We're going to help him after we get done with this exercise, whatever it is."

Armin grimaced. "If we take longer on purpose, do you think he would notice? It is supposed to be our free day, after all."

Mikasa gave a small smile. "As much as I would love to do that, I don't think we have that sort of time to waste." She brought her hands up, playing with the fringes of her scarf. "So what's it like?"

"What's what like?" Armin asked, though he figured already what the answer would be. 

"The wings." A hint of red colored her cheeks. She looked down, busying herself with her scarf. "They're beautiful, Armin. What does it feel like?"

Exactly what he figured. Armin's feathers ruffled as he tried to find the proper words to explain.  
"Well, it's like...it's like controlling your arms, I guess. I don’t really have to think about moving them. They, well, they don’t really feel _heavy_ , but they are heavy in the way that your limbs feel heavy. The feathers aren’t much of a problem...” He trailed off, rolling his shoulders, subconsciously opening his wings a little to catch the breeze that rushed past them. Armin sighed happily. The wind felt _so good_ brushing against his feathers.

The wings shivered with the wind’s touch, begging, no, _pleading_ him to take to the air, to own the skies. He expanded his wings to their fullest, nearly clipping Mikasa in the process. He embraced the wind, letting it rustle through his feathers, fly through his wings. Feathers twitched into places where Armin could _feel_ were the best way to generate lift. He just had to adjust a feather here, the arm of his wing there...

A pocket of air, trapped beneath his wing. An excited shiver ran down Armin’s spine. _If I could just maneuver the air correctly into giving me some lift, I could get off the ground._

 _I could be flying, right now._

Armin took off at a run, leaving Mikasa behind, confused. His wings were spread wide, cupped in a way that Armin felt was right. He could do this! He could jump up into the air, claim the skies as his own! He jumped, giving a mighty thrust with his wings, the air propelling into spirals beneath him. He was doing it! The ground was rolling beneath his feet! He just had to make another thrust of his wings to propel him into the skies. He brought his wings back in for the downstroke...

And promptly fell flat on his face.

Mikasa came running up beside him, extending a hand to help him up. “Are you hurt?” she asked as Armin refused her help. 

He shook his head, face reddening in shame. He dusted himself off, then shook his wings, shaking out the dirt in them. “I-I thought for sure I had it,” he said, rubbing his neck. “The wind, it just felt like I could carry myself away with it. Sorry.”

Mikasa glanced away from, a small smile on her lips. "Don't get too carried away. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I'm not-"

"Oi! Took you two long enough," Levi called from the edge of the clearing. 

_Right, get down to business,_ Armin thought. He couldn't dwell on his mistake, not right now. 

But, the feeling of the wind beneath his wings... When was the last time he'd had his wings out outside? He racked his brain. It had to be years. Before Shiganshina fell? Before his grandfather and parents died? Armin wasn't sure. Otherwise, he surely would have remembered the way the wind played with his feathers, the insatiable lusting he felt to take to the air and fly. 

Levi pulled Armin out of his thoughts. "Now, Armin, you're still incredibly clumsy when concerning your wings. You're going to need to have perfect your spatial senses with them, your sense of control. You need to cultivate a special sense of _awareness_ with them." Levi paced in front of them. Mikasa stiffened as he drew close. "A great way to learn awareness of your body, so I've learned, is hand-to-hand combat sparring."

Armin's breath stopped. _You have got to be kidding me. I nearly failed hand-to-hand combat training!_

"We can't do much else until Eren gets here, so I figured this would be the best approach for now," Levi said. He turned to face Mikasa. "Mikasa, from what I've heard, you're at the very least proficient in this area."

Mikasa nodded curtly. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Today's rules go as follows; If you're on the ground and can't get back up again, you lose. Go until you can't fight anymore, or until Armin wins, whichever one comes first. I'll be at the cabin fixing it up." Levi turned on his heel to leave. "And Mikasa? Don't go easy on him."

Mikasa grumbled, but gave her word. She regarded Armin, looking up and down his frame. "Are you ready? I'll try not to throw you around too hard."

 _Hand to hand against Mikasa. We're going to be here all day,_ Armin grimaced. "No, don't go easy on me. I want you to fight as you normally would," he replied. She shrugged, taking up a threatening stance. 

_I'm not weak,_ he tried to console himself as he took his stance. Feet shoulder-width apart, balanced on the balls of his feet, knees bent slightly for better balance, his side facing his opponent, hands curled into fists in a square in front of him, his wings awkwardly curling around him. "Ready," he said. 

Mikasa came at him like a storm. She grappled Armin’s front, wrapping herself around his head and around his shoulders. He bucked, trying to get her off of him. A knee into Armin’s stomach, making him gasp for breath for only a half second. It was all Mikasa needed to throw her weight, taking Armin with her. 

Armin came crashing to the ground, winded and humiliated. _Only a few seconds, and already I lost. I had hoped I would’ve been able to last longer than that._ He grimaced, his side smarting as he sat back up. 

“Are you hurt?” Mikasa asked, concerned. She knelt down next to him, a gentle hand on his knee.

“Fine. I’m fine,” Armin wheezed as he shakily stood back up. “Again,” he said as he took up his stance. He would not go down easily next time. Offensive, he had to play the offensive. Playing defense wouldn’t get him anywhere next to Mikasa’s brute strength.

“Do you need a moment to recover?” Mikasa asked warily, refusing to take her stance.

 _”Again,”_ Armin demanded. He couldn’t let himself lose so easily.

Mikasa shrugged, then spread herself apart. Torso facing Armin, feet spread in a square beneath her shoulders, one arm forward, one arm back. Power. Control. Dominance. She wouldn’t go down easily.

Armin rushed forward, feinting to the left, then dancing out of Mikasa’s way as she brought herself forward, missing Armin as he twisted behind her. He thrusted his hands upward, seeking to pin Mikasa from behind. She followed through her step, then twisted to face him, a mistake turned into perfection. Armin grabbed hold of her wrist, turning it outward, feeling the muscles strain. A sweep of his leg, bringing Mikasa off balance. A hand on his own. The wrist beneath him _pulling_ upward. Mikasa twisted, using Armin’s momentum against him, and he twirled in the air. 

Pain rippling up his spine as the ground welcomed him.

Armin scrambled back up. He couldn’t lose! Mikasa bounced backwards, avoiding Armin’s next frenzied attack. She fell into a crouch, sweeping her foot out and catching Armin’s legs, making him fall down again. 

_Ignore the pain, pain can be dealt with later!_ Armin threw himself upright. Mikasa darted in, Armin barely twirling away from her grip. She grabbed feathers instead. Roughly shoving the arm of his wing, Mikasa let her momentum lead her, slamming him into the ground again.

Heaving for breath, Armin stared skyward, Mikasa looming over him. He could feel the bruises forming already. What was Levi thinking, making Armin spar with one of the greatest soldiers of all time?

Mikasa crouched down next to him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should go easier on you.”

“No,” Armin coughed. _Don’t add insult to injury. I know I’m weak. There’s a reason why Levi wants me to do this, with her. There’s all a reason for this,_ Armin thought as he brought himself back up, doubling over for a few moments with his hands on his knees. There were cuts on his hands where they had hit the ground. His entire body seemed to ache and sting already.

Don’t focus on the pain!

Armin somehow found strength inside of himself as he brought himself back up. Wings flaring out beside him, he faced his enemy. _Us and them. I am the us, Mikasa is the them. No friendship on the battleground. Only comrades and enemies. No comrades here, only enemies._ He dashed forward.

Mikasa anticipated this, and stepped to the side, avoiding Armin’s attack. Armin twirled his weight on his heel, balancing himself with a quick stretch of his wing. He grappled Mikasa’s torso, lifting her into the air. Mikasa’s arms came around him, and they both went down in a puff of dust and feathers. Mikasa reacted faster, quickly adjusting her grip on Armin and bringing him above her. She _kicked,_ throwing him across the clearing. He slammed into a tree, knocking the breath out of him, wings splaying to his side as he crumpled to the ground. There was blood trickling from a cut on his brow.

 _Heretic._ One of the kids kneed him in the stomach again, laughing as he fell to the ground, out of breath, eyes watering against the pain. The bullies surrounded him, each taking a punch or a kick in rounds. _You’re nothing more than a damn heretic, you little crybaby!_

Armin felt sweat and blood drip into his eyes. He closed them tightly, floundering for a breath. The ground spun dangerously beneath him as he forced himself to his hands and knees. Mikasa was just an indistinct shape in the distance. All he needed was...

 _Surely, there is someone better than this to help demonstrate proper technique,_ Shadis demanded. _You’re nothing better than a limp, rotting ragdoll, Arlert! I’m sure even one of those weaklings that left to the fields could defend themselves better than you!_ Armin was flat on his back, tears streaming out of his eyes as he tried to breathe. The members of his squad regarded him sadly. How had he survived this hell so long? He should just go to the fields where he belonged. There were whisperings behind his back; he had heard them. Not even Eren and Mikasa could protect him from their whisperings forever. 

He should just let them win...

 _No._

Armin grit his teeth, taking in gasping breaths. In, out. In, out. Panting like a cornered animal.

 _No!_

He forced himself to slow down his breathing. Control. He needed control. Control started with the breath. 

He would not let them win.

He would _not!_

“Again,” he commanded, falling into stance. Blood oozed from his cut, following the contours of his face and dripping off of his chin.

“Armin, you’re hurt-” Mikasa began.

“Again!” he shouted.

Mikasa’s eyes widened at Armin’s forceful yell, and fell into stance. 

Armin screamed as he ran towards Mikasa again. Mikasa shifted her weight to her side, ready to turn around Armin’s attack again. Armin brought his wing out, slamming into her as she swung her weight to her side. She stumbled, breaking stance. He weaved around her, bringing his arm out to grapple her shoulder. Mikasa, dazed, barely dashed out of the way. Armin brought his other wing out behind him as he spun into a crouch. It grazed Mikasa’s face, the feathers blinding her for a split second. He grabbed behind her knees, roughly pulling them out beneath her. She somersaulted out of her fall, bringing herself to a crouch, hand put on the ground for balance. 

Wings raised threatening half unfurled above him, Armin sprung up from his crouch, thrusting his wings out for a quick glide in order to reach Mikasa. He tucked in his head as he came back to the ground, wrapping his arms underneath Mikasa’s armpits. He could feel his muscles strain as the momentum followed through, tossing Mikasa onto her stomach. 

Jumping up, Armin quickly straddled her back, hands clenched in her hair, thrusting her face into the dirt, wings to his sides, holding her arms down. She struggled to get to her knees, but Armin kicked her down as soon as she tried lifting herself up. Mikasa went limp. Armin didn’t dare to relax. His intuition proved correct. She bucked upward in one rough motion, Armin was able to keep his hold, shoving Mikasa’s forehead side to side in the dirt as he swayed dangerously to one side. He shoved himself off of his wing, keeping his center of gravity over Mikasa’s back.

Armin heard her mumble something into the dirt. “What was that?” he asked, adrenaline pumping through him. Heartbeats thumped in his ears, pounding behind his eyelids.

“I fold,” Mikasa mumbled louder through the dirt. “Get off of me.”

Armin smiled, rolling off of her. She sat up on her knees, rubbing off dirt. There were some scratches on her face, but they would heal in a few days. Armin sat back, wiping his brow and inspecting his body for cuts and bruises that needed tending.

There were none. He barely ached.

“What?” he questioned softly, stunned. 

“What is it, Armin?” Mikasa scooted closer to him. 

“There’s no cuts,” Armin answered, wide-eyed. “There’s no cuts, I’m not bruising and I barely ache. You pounded me pretty bad. I should be hurt. I should be hurting. What’s going on?”

Mikasa’s brow creased as she double-checked places where she had seen angry red cuts and discolored bruising only moments earlier. She hurriedly wiped the blood off his face with the tails of her scarf, seeking the cut that had made it spill.

Nothing. Not even dull scarring or scabs.

She sat back, shocked. “There’s nothing. How could that happen?” It was almost like...

It was almost like Eren’s regenerative abilities.

Mikasa jumped back up. “Armin, cut yourself on something.”

“You want me to do what?” Armin slowly stood back up.

“Cut yourself. See if you regenerate,” Mikasa explained hurriedly.

“Do you really think it might be like Eren’s abilities?” Armin asked as he brought out the knife he used to call the wings.

Mikasa nodded. “How else would you explain it?”

Armin shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to see.” He gave himself a shallow cut, akin to a bad papercut, on the fleshy part of his thumb. Blood oozed out for a few seconds, then steam. “No way,” Armin breathed as he watched the wound lazily sew itself up. It wasn’t as fast as Eren’s regenerative abilities, but that didn’t matter to him. He had regenerated.

“Why would it only manifest now? This has never happened before,” Armin wondered aloud. The ground spun dangerously beneath his feet. He sat down, feeling cold and dizzy. Mikasa sat down next to him, putting her hand in his. He blinked rapidly, trying to force away the darkness that curled at the edges of his vision. _Regenerative abilities? This shouldn’t be happening. This has never happened. All those years in the training--in the field, even--suffering so many injuries, having to hold myself back in fear of overwhelming myself, and now this? How? Why has it only manifested now? I don’t understand..._

“Armin? Armin!” Mikasa gently shook him. He started, then looked up at her. Her lips were pursed, her body tense. “I think you’re going into shock. Let’s get you back, get some water, and have you lay down for a bit.” Armin nodded, not daring to speak. She leaned down, helping him up and then wrapping an arm around him for support, awkwardly threading her arm around his wing. Armin stumbled as he walked, heavily leaning against Mikasa for support. He wrapped his wing around her shoulders for better balance.

They shuffled their way into the cabin. There was no sign of Levi as Mikasa gently lay Armin on the sofa in the front room. “Stay right here, keep your legs elevated. I’ll get you some water,” Mikasa said. Armin nodded, watching her go, then stared up at the ceiling.

“What are you doing here?” 

Armin jumped, wings flying out and knocking over the small coffee table in the middle of the room. Levi grunted, moving over to place it upright. “You were supposed to be out with Mikasa until you won.”

“I did,” Armin said. He tried to sit up, but his vision started to blacken as he moved upwards. He groaned, putting a hand to his forehead.

“You look as pale as a white-washed building, Arlert. What happened?” Levi asked, removing the cloth covering his mouth and sitting down next to him.

Armin sighed, looking back up at the ceiling and tracing the wood grain with his eyes. “I beat Mikasa, then realized I didn’t hurt at all. I had cuts, but now they’re gone, and I.. I regenerated from them. I even gave myself a cut and watched it regenerate.”

Levi’s jaw tightened. “You regenerated?”

Armin nodded.

“That certainly explains the paleness. We’ll have Hanji look you over once she gets here.” Levi stood back up. “Where’s Mikasa?”

“Getting water.” 

Levi gave a small hum. “Well, when she gets back, tell her to find me. Just because you can’t do anything right now doesn’t mean she gets out of her duties. Stay there, and don’t pass out or anything.” He put his cloth back over his mouth, then disappeared into the side room.

Armin settled himself back in. He began to pick through his feathers, cleaning out the dirt and debris trapped within.

Mikasa walked back in a few moments earlier, holding a canteen in each hand. She sat down on the floor next to Armin, handing him one of the canteens. He took it gratefully, very slowly sitting himself up to take a drink. The water was cool running down his throat, chilling his body. He set it back down next to Mikasa, laying back down.

“Are you feeling better?” Mikasa asked him.

“Yeah, I don’t feel dizzy anymore,” Armin answered. “Levi wanted you to help him. I don’t want to chance fainting while cleaning, so I’ll stay right here.” 

Mikasa hummed her consent. “Good. If you need anything just call for me. I’ll check back up on you in a bit.” She left the room to go find Levi.

Armin flipped to his side. Exhaustion seeped through him. He covered himself with his wings, closing his eyes. _Might as well get some rest while I can. Tomorrow could get a lot more uncomfortable and busy if Hanji and Eren arrive by then. Maybe they’ll be able to figure this all out._ He let himself fall into the open arms of blackness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say over here besides that my chapters keep getting longer and longer so that's fun for you guys, and that without my best beta dj this fic wouldn't be half as good as it is. Remember to give her love at her account; clockworkcourier. :)

Armin awoke with a crick in his neck and his right side smarting with the pins and needles of blood-deprived limbs. He groaned, blinking sleep from bleary eyes. His pillow had long since vacated the bed, finding the floor to be a more useful spot than underneath Armin's head. In its place, his right wing had folded itself into the perfect position to rest his head, and for the limb to fall asleep. The moth-eaten, pathetic excuse of a blanket had somehow entangled both his feet, his left wing, and his right arm. Muttering a few angry curses under his breath, Armin gave a few mighty kicks, releasing himself from the confines of the blanket. Unfortunately, he had also moved himself a little too close to the side of the bed. With an undignified squawk, Armin fell off the bed and roughly hit the floor. He groaned again, getting up and rubbing his back. He stretched his wings, wincing as blood rushed to stiff muscles. 

_I am going to kill Levi,_ Armin thought petulantly as he made his way to the kitchen. Last night before going to bed, Armin had asked if he was able to sleep without the wings, to which he had received an angry glare and a very final _no._ The only time now he was allowed to not have them was when he was changing clothes, as it would be extremely difficult to try to move clothing around them. 

Armin stumbled his way into the kitchen. Levi was cooking something on the stovetop that smelled suspiciously like eggs, and Mikasa was sitting at the table, stewing in anger with perfect posture. Armin noticed the scabs on her forehead, scabs that he had created. He made his way to the table, making a wide circle around Levi, who had a glare that said _if you get your filthy feathers anywhere near my cooking, you're dead, kiddo._

Mikasa looked up at Armin as he pulled out a chair. "How was your sleep last night?" she asked innocently, covering up any sentiment of anger she had shown earlier. 

"Terrible," Armin grumbled. "Do you know how hard it is to get comfortable when you suddenly have two extra limbs to keep track of?" A yawn interrupted him. 

Mikasa gave a sympathetic smile, patting his arm. "You'll get used to it. I'm sure tonight will be better."

Armin gave a grunt, then folded his arms on the table and rested his head in them, closing his eyes. He let his mind drift, the vestiges of sleep starting to reclaim him again. There was a sound, just on the edges of his consciousness, that could be a chair moving on the floor, or a door opening. Armin paid no mind to it, letting himself become aware of only his body, ignoring everything else surrounding him. The sturdy ground beneath his feet. The way his arms twitched beneath his head. The sound of shifting muscles in his ear. A heavy warmth running across his wings. Reality slammed back into him, driving away the unconsciousness he desperately wanted to fall back into.

Someone was touching his feathers. 

Armin grunted, shifting his wing out of whoever's hands they were. 

"Good morning Mister Sunshine," Eren cooed as he dug his hands back into Armin's feathers. Eren ran his hands down the arms of the wings, making Armin shiver violently beneath his touch. 

"Er-Eren knock it off," Armin moaned. He tried to resist the urge to relax and just let Eren play through his feathers. Instinct betrayed him, and instead he found himself extending his wings and leaning into his touch. Eren took this as an invitation to burrow in deeper, his hands questing through downy feathers and gently scratching out detritus. 

"Eren, please. Eren--Oh!" Armin jumped in his seat, wings flaring out and hitting Eren in their path. Eren just gave a hearty laugh, nursing a red mark on his face. Armin abruptly stood up, his face a fiery red from embarrassment, and, dare he say, pleasure. He turned on his heel, nearly clipping Mikasa with his wing. 

“That’s not fair!” Armin fumed. He pointedly folded his wings close to his body. “Just because you can touch them and it feels nice when you do doesn’t mean that you should, Eren.” Something in his brain finally clicked. He paused, regarding Eren with a frown. “What are you even doing here, Eren? I thought you weren’t coming until later today or tomorrow.”

Eren grinned. "Hanji and I got lucky yesterday. There was a guy visiting from Sina to make sure we're all following the rules and whatever, and he gave us clearance to come! Although Hanji made us leave at like the asscrack of dawn just so we could get here before you guys did stuff."

Armin stiffened. "And where exactly is Hanji right now?" 

"Out taking care of the horses. She insisted on talking with them while putting them away in the stables," Eren shrugged. Hanji’s ways were strange to, well, everyone.

The door slammed open, Hanji nearly losing her footing as she flew in. "Good morning everybody! Glad to see everyone lived through the night alone with Levi." She gave a sunny grin to Armin and Mikasa. Mikasa raised an eyebrow, and Armin pointedly looked away from her. 

"Who gave you clearance to come here so early, shitty-glasses? I need to shove a blade through their face," Levi said without turning his gaze from his cooking. 

"And a good morning to you too, Levi! How's being the team dad treating you?" Hanji sauntered over to the table. 

Levi gave a grunt, otherwise ignoring Hanji's comment. Armin caught Levi muttering an impressive string of vulgarities under his breath. 

"And our man of the hour, Armin Arlert." Hanji turned to face him, a dangerous glare glinting on her glasses. 

Armin took a step back. He could feel his feathers starting to fluff out in an attempt to make himself look bigger, more threatening. 

"Now, now, don't be scared," Hanji simpered, taking a step forward and leaning over Armin, a hand on her chin. "I just want to get a nice good look at those wings, no need to be worried."

"I-I'm not worried," Armin countered pathetically as he mantled his wings above him. He tensed, feathers fluffing out to their fullest extent above him as Hanji examined him. 

"Could've fooled me," she muttered. She slowly wandered around him, humming to herself. Armin didn't dare to move a muscle, afraid he would end up smacking Hanji away with his wings. He yelped as Hanji grabbed his left wing, pulling it away from his body and back in with a sharp inhalation. 

"Amazing," she breathed, running a hand over the coverts and secondaries. Armin shivered, twitching his wing away from her. Hanji deftly plucked out a loose feather, making Armin flinch from the small spike of pain. 

"You better not be pulling out any of his flight feathers, Hanji," Levi warned, removing his pan from the stove. 

"I'm doing nothing of the sort, my dearest corporal," Hanji replied as she returned to Armin's front, stroking the feather lightly in her hands. She fluttered over to Levi, leaving Armin standing there awkwardly. 

Eren sidled up to Armin, taking his hand and squeezing it for comfort. "Hey now, you okay?" Eren asked Armin quietly. 

"She took my feather," Armin hissed, disgusted. "She took my feather and is stroking it. That's... That's just _wrong._ Does she collect samples of your skin and bits of hair too?"

"Actually, yes," Eren said, putting a hand on his neck sheepishly. "When I go Titan, she likes to see what sort of differences there are between the ones she's captured before and me. Obviously, it's a bit easier to get samples from me than a regular one. The other day we found out my breathing as a Titan is more for temperature regulation than for respiration. Did you know my inner temperature is above boiling point?"

Armin rolled his eyes. Truthfully, he had already made several studies on his own time about the physiology of Titans. He figured Eren was mostly just rambling off discoveries Hanji had made in order to distract him. "Yes, Eren. I had figured that a long while ago."

Eren gave a small "oh" of disappointment, letting go of Armin and sitting next to Mikasa. Armin settled in across from them, wood scraping against wood as he pulled out the chair. 

"Now, you brats better appreciate all the hard work I spent making this meal," Levi said as he marched over with breakfast in tow, "because I'm sure as hell I'm not cooking breakfast for you anymore." He set down two platefuls of food while Hanji handed out individual plates and silverware. 

Fried eggs steamed on one plate, sprinkled evenly with thyme and rosemary, each one fried to perfection. Peppered flatbread sat on the other plate, dusted with flour on top. Salivating at what seemed a feast before him, Armin took a couple of eggs and a slice of bread. He eagerly bit into it. 

Flavor exploded across his tongue, the peppery sting of the flatbread mixing with the sweet herbs and the slightly salty taste of the eggs. Armin hummed in happiness, savoring the delicious food. “This is really good, Corporal,” he said between bites, “Thank you for making it.” He downed the rest of the meal, relishing each bite.

Armin sat back, closing his eyes. Sounds of silverware clinked as everyone else finished their meal. He stretched out his wings, enjoying the pull of the muscles against his back. It was a welcome shock of clarity against his still-waking body. Hanji ooh’ed next to him, eyeing him with fanatical excitement.

“Armin, open and close your eyes again,” she said, an discomforting smile on her face.

Armin wrinkled his nose, mystified at the strange request. He blinked, once, twice, three times. Hanji crowed, thrusting her face into his, dissecting every inch with her eyes. Armin flinched backwards, shielding himself with his wings.

“Armin! You have a third eyelid!” Hanji exclaimed.

"What?" Armin stuttered. 

"A third eyelid!" Hanji repeated. "Look! Right when he blinks, you can see a semi-transparent membrane run across his eyes! Thats so cool!" Hanji seemed close to bursting. 

Armin blushed, looking down at his hands. 

"It must be for clearing out debris mid-flight, or possibly for moisturizing while up at high altitudes. Maybe it's both?" Hanji rambled. "I wanna try something real quick, Armin." She tilted Armin's chin to face her. "Don't move," she said. 

Armin grimaced, but did what he was told. _I'm starting to share Levi's sentiment,_ he thought. 

He started when he felt Hanji blow into his eyes. He could feel something slide across his eyes, blurring his vision for mere moments before clearing up. 

Hanji pulled back from him, gesticulating wildly to the others at the table. "Ha! Did you guys see that? You saw it, didn't you, Eren?"

Eren plastered on a smile, nodding carefully. Armin gave him a withering look, pleading with his eyes to help him out. Eren shrugged back with a strained grin. Mikasa sat back, putting on her best glare that imitated an angry mother bear. 

"Can you get any more wonderful, Armin?" Hanji cried out, roughly pulling Armin back into conversation. Armin pursed his lips, letting his wings wilt around him. He definitely did _not_ want to mention the regeneration right...

"He also regenerates," Levi said over his teacup. 

Armin shot him a glare as Hanji quite nearly burst his eardrums with a scream. "You're going to have to show me! Please, I must see this!" Armin cowered as she invaded his space again. 

"Shitty-glasses," Levi said flatly. "Leave him alone. Your enthusiasm is terrifying." He drained the rest of his cup. 

With a sigh, she drew back from Armin. A glint in her eyes indicated that he wasn't off the hook, however. 

"What kind of tea is that," Mikasa broke the silence, gesturing to Levi's empty cup. 

"Black," Hanji interrupted, "and disgustingly bitter."

"Just like my heart," Levi replied, standing and taking care of dishes. "Armin, get your maneuver gear. You, Eren, and Hanji will start working on exercises." He turned to Hanji. "Do what I've told you to do, and _only_ what I've told you to do. The bracers are in the left top shelf in my closet. Don't you dare soil anything else with your grubby hands." Hanji saluted and scurried away. 

"I'm going with them," Mikasa said, rising from her chair. 

"No," Levi snapped. "I already told you, you're going to deliver that message to Erwin. We don't have time to waste."

Mikasa cast her eyes to the ground, the silent anger Armin had seen earlier returning to her face. "Yes, sir," she grumbled. Armin smiled apologetically at her. She turned away, throwing daggers at Levi as he left the room. "You should go get ready," she said. "Wouldn't want to make _our dearest corporal_ angry, now would we?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice. 

"Of course not," Armin replied. "Getting his cravat in a twist would probably end up choking his little neck."

Eren snickered behind him. 

"Although, doing just that might finally bleed out those bags underneath his eyes," Armin continued. "Perhaps then he wouldn't act like he's got a stick up his butt all the time. A little suffocation-induced sleep never hurt anyone, right?"

Eren laughed harder, and there was a small grin gracing Mikasa's face. 

Armin's smile grew wider. He started pacing the room, an authoritative finger in the air. "Who knows, maybe the reason our _dearest_ corporal is so grumpy all the time is because he never gets any sleep. I'm quite sure I have never seen him so much as blink. We should cast a vote; who will be so brave as to smother Corporal Levi in order to find out if Humanity's Strongest dreams." He rounded the room, turning back to his friends with a mock serious expression on his face. "Will it be Mikasa Ackerman? Worth a hundred soldiers, and able to kill Titans with the slightest of ease? Quiet, yet powerful?" 

Mikasa gave an elaborate bow, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Or," Armin tapped his chin, turning to Eren, "will it be Eren Jaeger? Humanity's Hope, and maybe Levi's only hope for a nap? Determined and loyal, humanity's personal Titan, able to kill them in a way us mortals could only envy? Who knows, maybe that fiery temper will finally serve the corporal some good."

"Hey!" Eren said between laughing fits, "That temper serves us just fine!"

"Of course, Eren. And Jean is a majestic stallion," Armin jested. "How many fights have you gotten in because you got mad? I couldn't count them all using my fingers, toes, _and_ feathers!"

"Shove off," Eren snorted, standing up. “And what about you Armin? Could you take down the corporal? Brilliant beyond imagination, endowed with angelic wings, able to save hundreds with on-the-spot plans? I think those extra limbs could help with pinning him down. Don’t you think so, Mikasa?”

Armin blushed as Mikasa nodded, likely remembering the way he had pinned her down yesterday.

"Well then," Eren smirked, heading towards Armin, "I believe we've come to a decision. Armin will be the one to smother Levi, figuring out once and for all if his grumpy attitude is just from lack of sleep! Do you second this motion, Mikasa?"

Mikasa solemnly raised her right hand. 

"H-hey! I wouldn't be able to pull that off!" Armin cried. "I don't have the ability to beat Levi in a scuffle, which it would undoubtedly turn out to be!"

"You beat me yesterday," Mikasa shrugged. 

Armin spun to face her. "That doesn't count! I wasn't..." 

Eren pounced, letting out a yell as he tackled Armin from behind. Armin yelped, falling face-first to the floor with Eren on his back. Armin bucked, flapping his wings wildly, trying to get Eren off of him. Eren wrapped his arms tighter around Armin’s chest, refusing to let go. With a small hop, Armin twisted, facing the ceiling and coming down right on top of Eren. Eren wheezed beneath Armin as his body weight slammed into him.

“Don’t smother me, smother Levi!” Eren choked as he wiggled out from underneath Armin. 

“I’m not going to do it!” Armin said as he pointedly draped a wing over Eren. He shimmied underneath the wing, coming out on his right side. 

“It was your idea in the first place!” Eren argued. 

“It was a joke!” Armin countered, sitting up. 

“But it was still your idea.” Eren sat up, taking Armin’s wing in his hand, folding it in his lap. He began playing through the feathers again, his fingers sliding down the shaft of one of Armin’s primaries. Armin shivered, pulling his wing out of Eren's hands. 

“Hey,” Eren whined. He leaned onto Armin, lazily trying to trap Armin's feathers in his hands. 

"You've had your fun," Armin said, scooting away from Eren. 

"But you get so relaxed. It's nice to see you relax." Eren followed Armin across the floor. "It's been a long while since we've had time to just sit back and enjoy the world don't you think?"

"Well technically we're supposed to be getting ready," Armin said, leaning back on the couch behind him. 

"To smother Levi?"

Armin snorted quietly. "Yes, of course. Maybe then we'll finally be able to relax." 

Mikasa sat down next to him. "We're soldiers. We're not supposed to relax." She lay her head on Armin's shoulder. 

"You seem pretty relaxed right now," Armin said as Eren requisitioned his other shoulder. 

"Families can relax," she replied, closing her eyes. 

Armin shifted his body, letting the two weights on his shoulders roll to more comfortable spots on his neck. Carefully, he tented his wings, then let them settle on his friends. Eren gently pulled the white feathers closer to him, while Mikasa burrowed deeper into the black feathers, her hair seeming to merge with them. 

Armin sighed, content. The warm bodies pressed up against him was making him sleepy. He lolled his head onto Eren's, closing his eyes. The quiet days of life in Shiganshina, the lazy afternoons of picking out shapes in the clouds or catching bugs down by the river, moved to the forefront of Armin's mind. Being able to just _be_ together, that was something Armin had missed more than he cared to admit. He had missed the way Eren's eyes would light up whenever he had mentioned the outside world, the way Mikasa leaned up against him when the boys got tired of running around in the grass, the way all of them could decide what their futures could be, and believe they could gain them without loss. _We've grown up too fast,_ Armin thought. _Our childhoods were sucked dry by the breach, by loss, by famine, then finally by the military. It's a wonder we're all still here together._ Feeling childish, Armin sought Eren's hand, gently squeezing it for comfort. Eren squeezed back, in a way that seemed to say _everything will be okay._ Armin smiled, letting himself believe the lie, if just for a few moments. 

"I thought I told you brats to go get ready," Levi barked.

Armin jumped, making Eren and Mikasa shudder against him. He hurriedly stood up, giving a hasty salute. "Sorry, sir! We got, um, distracted." Eren and Mikasa's hands thumped in unison as they saluted. 

"I can see that," Levi said dryly. "Hurry it up, we don't have all day." 

"Won't happen again, sir!" Armin said. Levi nodded once, then left outside. Armin regarded his friends. "We should hurry," he said, beginning to walk towards his room. "Or else we'll be the ones getting suffocated." 

\--- 

The bracers should have been a familiar weight by now. The wings themselves should have been a familiar weight by now. Armin shifted them, feeling self-conscious as he tried to move his wings where the bracers’ mass wouldn’t be as much as a problem. 

“I thought you had practiced with these,” Eren whispered beside him. Armin had explained the bracers to Eren as he had strapped them on to his wings earlier. Hanji walked in front, oblivious to the two boys behind her. 

“Doesn’t mean they’re any less bothersome,” Armin whispered back, frowning as he shifted his wing again. The bracers’ hefty load seemed to bear down on him, threatening to pull him to the ground. “You wouldn’t want to walk around with heavy weights on your arm all the time, now would you?”

“I guess not,” Eren shrugged. “Why do you have to walk with them on, anyway?”

“Strength training,” Armin replied. He grumbled, shrugging his wing and nearly knocking Eren with the bracer. “Before Levi found out, I could barely hold them out for five minutes straight. Obviously, I can do better than that now, but you _do_ need strong muscles in order to fly. Or at least, that’s what theory states.” 

Eren nodded. “Makes sense. How long does Hanji want them on for?”

“Until we get there.” _Wherever “there” is,_ Armin added silently. They had been walking for at least fifteen minutes now, passing ponderous pines and sweet-scented undergrowth. The sun trickled through the canopy, backlighting moss hanging from enormous branches. Birds chirped above, mixed in with the chattering of squirrels and the rustling wind. Armin scowled, wanting nothing more but to embrace the wind playing with his feathers, but the bracers made it too difficult to keep his wings open for too long. 

"What's wrong?" Eren asked. 

"Nothing," Armin hurriedly replied. "It's nothing."

"There's _something_ bothering you," Eren frowned. "You don't just scowl at nothing, and don't even think of making something up to make me stop worrying."

Armin flushed, averting his gaze to his boots. "It's really stupid," he said. "It doesn't matter." 

"It matters to you." Eren caught Armin's eyes. 

"Honestly, Eren, it's really stupid," Armin repeated. He took a deep breath at an attempt to feel less like an idiot. "I-I want to... Eren this is sounds incredibly foolish out loud."

Eren's gaze didn't waver. He gave a small smile, trying to make Armin feel comfortable. "It's fine, Armin. You aren't stupid, and this matters to you, whatever it is."

Armin sighed again, breaking his gaze from Eren. He studied the ground beneath him, small ferns and wildflowers passing by, flanked by loose dirt and the massive pine trunks that stretched endlessly above him. Some roots had escaped from the ground, creating small humps of bark that peeked out from the greenery. "I want to stretch out my wings and hold the wind in them," Armin finally confessed. "It feels really nice, and I feel so... wonderful. Like I could conquer anything, even the skies. I don't know how to describe the feeling. It's like, finally becoming _right._ Finding that last part of yourself that was missing, that you needed in order to truly experience everything around you." Armin stopped. "Sorry, that sounds dumb now that I've said it."

"No, no. It sounds nice," Eren said. Gingerly, he moved closer to Armin, then took a wing in his hand, carefully supporting the bracer. He held it up, carrying the weight. With a smile, Armin slowly stretched out his wing, making sure to not outpace Eren as he walked outwards with the bracer. 

It wasn't quite the same as yesterday--he didn't have both wings open after all--but Armin still gave a satisfied hum as the wind brushed through his feathers, getting trapped in that one pocket he could create. Feathers twitched, tickling Eren's hands as they waved in the wind.

"Feel nice?" Eren asked. 

"Mhm," Armin replied, half-lidding his eyes. Hesitantly, he unfurled his other wing. Muscles quivered as the bracer weighed down on them. The world seemed to go fuzzy as Armin closed off all sensation but the wondrous feeling of air rushing past him, making his feathers tremble in excitement. 

"That's kinda gross," Eren said, pulling Armin out of his reverie. 

Armin blinked owlishly, driving away the blurriness in his vision. "What?" he said defensively, bringing his wings back to his body. 

"That third eyelid," Eren said. "It makes your eyes look... _fleshy._ I don’t know, it just looks weird.”

Armin opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Hanji. “We’ve arrived!” she announced cheerily, throwing her arms open and beckoning to the forest around her. There was an opening in the trees, allowing enough space for Eren’s Titan form. Hanji sauntered over to Armin. “You can take those off now. We’ll use them again at the end of the day if there’s any strength left in you.”

Armin eagerly undid the straps, letting the bracers clang to the ground. He rolled his shoulders, sighing in relief. 

“Now, come have a seat,” Hanji said, sitting in a relatively clear space of dirt, patting the ground next to her. The boys sat in front of her, mindful to not knock their maneuver gear as they sat. 

Hanji studied Armin, dissecting each little twitch in muscle and shifting of feathers. "Armin, today Levi wanted to work on getting you up into the air. However, he told me that before you learn how to fly, you need to learn how to land." She leaned back, gaze still locked on Armin. "Eren, what's the number one problem when maneuver gear fails?"

Eren clasped his hands together, stealing a glance from Armin. "The fall?" Eren answered hesitantly.

"The sudden stop," Hanji said grimly, still keeping her eyes locked with Armin's. "The fall isn't the problem; you're still alive, waiting for the ground to slam into you, pressing hundreds of kilos of force into you, all within a fraction of a second. _That's_ what kills you. What can save you is spreading out those forces, distributing them over time. The difference between life and death is mere fractions, the difference between point zero one seconds and point one seconds. How do we extend time? Padding, for one. I'm certain you became familiar with that in the Trainee's Corps. Deceleration is another. Padding utilizes this, though we don't have the luxury of using it here. The key is following the line of action of the force while simultaneously slowing down. Of course, decelerate too quickly, and it will kill you as surely as if you had just hit the ground. One may argue that hitting the ground at full speed is deceleration, a rather quick one at that. Third, counteracting forces in the way of redirecting said forces in a different direction, taking care to not pull too hard or too quickly. This creates a different moment, where the axis of rotation has changed, which changes the loading of forces. The moment itself uses some of the energy, lessening the amount of force by converting it from mechanical energy to heat energy, increasing entropy. But, you already know how this third method works; that's what the maneuver gear utilizes. Armin, Eren, today we'll be using the second method." Hanji rose, waving for the boys to follow suit. "Do you trust Eren with your life, Armin?" she asked, turning away. 

Images of a bloody Eren, hand outstretched from a Titan's mouth, sprang to Armin's mind. He felt a chill wash over him, running from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. "I do," he said. _Without him, I wouldn't be here today._

"And Eren," Hanji continued, "do you trust yourself with Armin's life?"

Eren tightened his jaw. "I do," he said, voice wavering. He scrunched his brow, like how he usually did when he was anxious, looking at Armin for approval. Armin nodded once, giving a small smile for good measure. 

"Then his life is in your hands." Hanji turned on her heel, a unnerving grin on her face as she faced them. "Our plan is for Eren to go Titan, and be there to catch you when you fall. Armin, you'll be anchored into his palm, and be jumping from hand to hand, working on a perfect landing. No redirecting your gear, and that is an order. Eren, what I'm about to tell you is incredibly important; when you catch Armin if he can't land right, _follow through_ to make sure it's not a hard landing. It's like catching a ball. Your hand should keep following the line of action of the force--in this case, down--so that Armin here isn't crushed by gravity asserting its control. If all else fails, those anchors you have in will help, though you will suffer from a terrible case of whiplash. Steel isn’t the most elastic material. You got it?"

Eren and Armin nodded, both boys looking rather pale, each for different reasons. 

"Good. Whenever you're ready, Eren." Hanji faced the forest again, humming to herself. 

"Are you okay with this, Armin?" Eren asked, swallowing hard. "I mean, if I mess up, you might die. If you don't trust me with that, we can find another way."

"You'll be fine," Armin said, stuffing down his own fears for Eren's sake. "I trust you. We'll be okay. I'm just worried about hurting you. Do you feel it when you have the anchors in you? Have you even tested that yet?"

"No, no. I barely feel a thing. It feels like a slight pressure, that's all." Eren shuffled his feet. "Are you sure?" he asked again. 

"There's no other way," Armin said. "Stop stalling."

With a sigh, Eren screwed his eyes shut, concentrating hard, then bit into his hand. He barely registered the rusty tang of blood on his tongue before steam and flesh enveloped him. A blur of double vision, then Eren was looking down from fifteen meters, the two below him as small and insignificant as insects next to his size. He hissed out a plume of steam, signaling he was conscious and ready. 

Hanji motioned for him to kneel down. "Armin, there's not much I can do to help you," she said, her expression unreadable. "I'm not sure how much instinct will come to your aid, if you even possess any. Just, try to get as much air as you can under your wings. I'm sure you'll get it eventually." She gave him a warm smile, then pulled him onto Eren's hand with her. 

Armin's heart fluttered as Eren lurched beneath him, rising to his full height. Frightened blue eyes met huge teal irises. Eren keened, seemingly in a way to tell Armin to not be scared. 

_He won't hurt you,_ Armin consoled himself, putting a hand to his heart. _Eren would never hurt me._ Still, Armin couldn't shake out the image of being trapped inside that mouth, the edges of his vision lined with wicked teeth, ready to end his life. He shook his head, looking down at his boots. 

"Bring us in, Eren!" Hanji yelled next to him. Eren carefully brought his hand to his shoulder. Hanji deftly grabbed a tuft of coarse, black hair, swinging herself onto him. "Ok, Armin. Signal when you're ready, get yourself anchored, and start jumping." She tapped Eren's ear twice, and he brought his hand back out in front of him. Armin stared into Eren's eyes, mentally summoning up the courage to prepare to jump. 

"Okay, let me get anchored," he said hesitantly. Eren moved his other hand above him, palm facing down. Armin winced as he pulled the trigger, cringing as he heard the solid _thwump_ of the steel anchors biting into Eren's flesh. He quickly turned to see if it caused any reaction. Eren blinked passively, unperturbed. 

"Okay, up we go," Armin said. He was forced to his knees as Eren lifted his hand, unceremoniously dumping Armin into his other palm. Steel cables coiled at his feet, and steam blinded him momentarily as the area around the anchors healed. He peeked over the edge of Eren’s palm. Vertigo claimed him, making his vision swim and his legs grow weak. Armin wasn’t afraid of heights--that was beat out of him years ago in training--but knowing he couldn’t use the 3DMG made him reconsider.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Armin stammered fretfully, looking back at Eren. He could feel his feathers start to fluff out in fear. “I’ve never flown before, much less jump off the edge of a fifteen meter drop without being able to use the maneuver gear. What if my wings aren’t even big enough to hold me up? How do we know that this will work? Humans don’t fly! Humans aren’t supposed to fly! I might not even know what to do, and if you somehow miss catching me...”

Eren snorted, blowing steam at Armin. He rolled his eyes, growling softly.

Armin blushed, looking away. “You’re right. I should stop worrying and just get on with it.” He took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut and stuffing his fear deep down. _It’s just one jump. Eren’s hand isn’t that far away, and he’ll catch you if you don’t make it. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine._

The mental coaching wasn’t helping.

Armin sighed again, opening his eyes and looking over the edge of Eren’s palm. He stretched open his wings, feeling the wind play through them. He walked towards Eren’s wrists, turned on his heel, then ran off his fingers, launching himself into the air. Wind bundled up underneath him, pulling at his face, his feathers, his feet. He barely registered his screams as Eren’s hand rushed to meet him. He extended his wings, trying to parachute the air underneath them, but he was falling too fast. Armin barely even slowed before roughly hitting Eren’s palm, his stomach lurching as Eren dipped his hand.

“Armin! You okay down there?” Hanji yelled up above.

Groaning and holding his head, Armin stood up, waving his hand. Eren carefully brought Armin up to face Hanji. “Your alulas!” she cried. “You need to extend your alulas!”

“My what?” Armin asked, thoroughly confused.

“Your alulas,” Hanji repeated, as if Armin would be able to glean the information by saying it again. “Here, bring him closer, Eren. I need to show him.” Armin stumbled as Eren moved his hand to his shoulder. Hanji jumped onto his hand, prancing over to Armin. “The alulas are a small group of feathers, about three to five of them, that are like the thumb of your wing. By extending them, it increases your angle of attack, leading in more air under your wings and helping you slow down.” She ran a hand over the arm of his wing, stopping at the top joint. Digging in, she thumbed out the alulas, spreading them above the joint. “See? Alulas.”

Armin pulled his wing away from her. “Great. I’ll keep that in mind the next few seconds I’m falling,” he said tersely.

Hanji grinned back. "Falling is only one step away from flying. Now, back up you go." She hopped back onto Eren's shoulder, and suddenly Armin was moving back up by Eren's face. He gave Eren a suffering look. Eren just shrugged the shoulder Hanji wasn't on, knitting his eyebrows together. 

"I know, I know," Armin said, running a hand through his alulas. "Second time won't be as bad." He stretched out his wings, trying experimentally to extend them. They popped out above the joint, just as Hanji had shown him. Eren puffed steam behind him, a low rumbling coming from his throat. 

"Yeah, pretty weird," Armin agreed as he flapped his wings twice, watching intently to see exactly how his newfound flight feathers would perform. Satisfied, he took his position at the heel of Eren's palm, then launched himself into the air again. 

Wind cut at him, screaming in his ears as he fell, seeming to tear at his very flesh. _You don't belong in the air,_ it hissed. _Humans don't fly, they just fall._ Armin scrunched his brow in concentration, giving a few mighty flaps as he neared Eren's palm. Alulas spread, he gave a final _thwack_ of his wings before colliding painfully with searing skin. 

"Better!" Hanji shouted. "That fall was slower this time! Just slow down a touch more and you'll be golden!"

"Easy for you to say," Armin grumbled under his breath as he changed hands again. "You're not the one flying this thing." 

Eren snorted behind him. 

“Well, it’s true!” Armin countered. “She’s not the one flinging herself off of a Titan’s hand, desperately trying to land without crashing. It’s harder than it looks you know.” 

Eren just rolled his eyes dramatically, motioning for him to get on with it.

“One moment,” Armin said, sitting down amid the wires. “I have to think. I’m missing _something_ with this. Something important.” He frowned, trying to picture how regular birds landed. He ran through the moment in his head, over and over again. _The wings are extended, but in a way that catches the most air. Not fully extended then, but brought in at a comfortable angle, partially facing upwards._ Armin copied what he was envisioning, testing which position felt the most right. _There._ The arm of his wing curving up away from his body, alulas spread wide, but primaries facing in, furled close together. _Alright, that’s one part of it. The tail feathers are supposed to be perpendicular to the ground, in order to turn the bird to the right position. I don’t have tail feathers, so that’ll have to be taken care of another way. Using a swinging force from my legs then? I’ll have to test that out._

Armin stood up, shaking his wings out and preparing to jump a third time. Eren made a low, worried rumble, curling the tips of his fingers around Armin. “I’m okay,” he said, looking back at Eren. “Don’t worry. You’re doing great.” Eren cocked his head, the edges of his mouth stretching into a grin the best he could. Armin laughed softly. Eren looked absolutely ridiculous, like a giant distressed puppy who had been caught doing something it wasn’t supposed to. He shuffled massive feet, taking care to not jostle his riders. Armin gave him a small smile, an indicator that he was doing fine. He turned back towards the edges of Eren’s fingers.

Armin steeled himself, then tossed himself into the air again. This time, he thrusted his wings forwards as Eren’s other hand came rushing to meet him. A few meters before making contact, Armin pitched his legs forward against the air, turning his body perpendicular to his landing spot. His feet met Eren’s hand, and he stumbled forward, but stayed upright, wings spread out to balance himself. He straightened out, excitement bubbling up within him. 

“I did it!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in celebration. Hanji whooped, jumping into the air and nearly falling off of Eren. Eren let out a roar of triumph. He gathered Hanji from his shoulder, bringing her vibrating form to Armin. 

“Armin! You landed! You did it!” Hanji cheered, clapping her hands on his shoulders. “What changed this time?”

Armin blushed, gently lifting Hanji’s hands off of him. “I just did what felt right,” he said.

“Could you do it again?” Hanji asked, the sun glinting on her glasses. “We have to make sure it wasn’t just a fluke. Statistically significant results and all that.” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” he said, smiling to himself while walking to Eren’s other palm. _One step closer to flying. Really flying,_ he thought as he propelled himself into the air.

\---

Levi tore his gaze away from the paperwork strewn across the coffee table as the boys and Hanji walked in, haloed by the red sunset behind them. They looked absolutely wrecked, hair sticking up from their scalps, feet dragging across the floor, eyelids drooping in exhaustion. “How did it go?” Levi asked as Armin tiredly undid the straps to the bracers covering his wings, letting them clang noisily to the floor.

“Fantastic,” Hanji answered cheerfully, throwing herself onto the sofa next to Levi, jostling the cushions beneath him. “Armin’s got landing down to a science, I swear.” 

Levi glanced over at Armin, who was currently flopping himself to the ground, sighing in relief as Eren burrowed underneath his wing next to him. Mikasa rose from the couch, joining the two on the ground. “Good to hear you were actually able to accomplish something,” Levi said. “We’ll let them rest until afternoon tomorrow, then take those three and run through it again. I’ll be here doing all this _exciting_ paperwork that _someone_ was supposed to get done earlier.”

Hanji suddenly became hard of hearing, letting the back of her head rest against the edge of the sofa. 

Levi just shook his head, mumbling something under his breath about insubordinate partners. He stood up, walking over to the pile of limbs and feathers on the ground. “Turn in early, if you’re so tired, you brats. No need to dirty yourself on the floor,” he said, gently nudging what he thought was Eren’s arm. The three lifted themselves up, stumbling away to the bedrooms as one. Levi shook his head again.

“What do you think, Levi?” Hanji said from the couch, still staring at the ceiling. “Will he be ready to fly by Erwin’s timeframe?”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Levi answered back, gathering up his papers from the table. “He’ll have to be, or else...” he trailed off. “Whatever. Let’s get ready for tomorrow, shitty-glasses. We’ve got work to do.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A month and a bit later, I bring you 10.8k words, most definitely my longest and probably best written chapter yet. Enjoy!
> 
> Beta'd by my best buddy palhoncho DJ, with some of Kai. Respective ao3's are clockworkcourier and minorthirds.
> 
> For more emotional distress, please listen to Medicine by Daughter, then Aurora Awakes by John Mackey while reading this chapter.

Darkness. It curled around him, squeezing out all semblance of light. Armin whimpered, pulling his blanket closer around him, wrapping his wings tight around his body. He tried to savor the warmth they brought him, but tonight it wasn't enough to dispel the nightmarish images that haunted his mind. Tears ran hot down his cheeks, salty trails that would have burned through scrapes and cuts, had he not regenerated broken skin. He opened his eyes--blackness claimed his sight--turning over to face Eren on the other bed. He listened to Eren's slow, raspy breaths, but he couldn't find solace in them either. 

_I should wake him up,_ Armin thought, sitting up. _But no, he was so exhausted yesterday. It would be selfish of me to wake him up._ Choking back a sob, Armin fell back onto his pillow, facing the wall. He had dealt with nightmares on his own before. 

So why was this one different?

Armin's side smarted as he rolled over. Mikasa had grabbed him a little too roughly out of the air yesterday when they were practicing. Levi had wanted to make sure there were plenty of failsafes to catch Armin when he finally flew, so they had been practicing catching him out of the air all day yesterday. He only had a few days shy of two weeks in order to master flight. He hoped that was enough. 

Armin screwed his eyes shut, hating himself for the tears that refused to stop. His body wracked with sobs, though he tried to keep quiet so Eren could continue resting. 

"Armin?" He wasn’t quiet enough, apparently. He felt the side of his bed dip as Eren sat on the edge. "You okay?" 

Armin curled in on himself, refusing to answer. Eren scooted closer to him, rubbing his hand up and down Armin's back, taking care to avoid his wings. 

"I'm fine," Armin finally said, his voice wavering in a way that was definitely _not_ fine. He cursed, flipping over to face Eren, tears streaking down his cheeks. "I'm not fine," he admitted, voice cracking. He could feel the knot in his chest rise up, threatening more tears. 

Eren helped Armin sit up, wiping off the wet tracks off his cheeks. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, gently taking Armin's hands in his own. 

Armin shook his head, burying his face in Eren's shoulder. Eren scooped him up into a hug, running his hands through golden hair. 

"I'm sorry," Armin moaned through Eren's shirt, grabbing fistfuls of it in his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." The tightness in his chest rose through his throat, and he burst into tears. 

"Shh, you're okay," Eren said softly. "You're, okay, you're okay. We're safe, you're here with me, it's okay." He cradled Armin's head with one hand, rubbing his back with the other. Armin's breath heaved, taking in desperate gasps of air between lilted, choking sobs. Eren’s shirt was soaking with Armin’s tears before long. He kept talking quietly, trying to comfort Armin the best he could. Memories of younger years, when they had found out the fate of Armin’s parents invaded Eren’s mind; Armin a small weight in his arms, bloodshot, watery eyes, a silent resolve to never let Armin feel this acute sorrow again.

Armin pulled away a few minutes later, eyes red and swollen, unable to summon any more tears to cry. “I’m sorry,” he sniffed again, looking down at the sheets he was currently twisting through his fingers. “It was only a dream. I should have been more quiet. You must be exhausted.” Armin pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

“Don’t say that, Armin,” Eren said, draping an arm around Armin’s shoulders. “Whatever it is, it’s not only a dream and it’s obviously hurting you. That’s a good enough reason for me to be awake here with you. Please, don’t beat yourself up over this.” Eren caught Armin’s eyes peeking out from underneath his fringe. Armin didn't meet his eyes, glancing away when they made contact. "You can tell me what's wrong if you want to."

Armin stared at the wall, leaning slightly towards Eren. He took a deep breath, wiping the last bits of tears off his face. "I'm flying over a field," he started, gripping the sheet in his hands. "It's exactly what you'd expect; soldiers giving their last few breaths of life, staring into the sun or the ground as they bleed out. The more lively ones are taken by roaming Titans, but they're too weak to draw their swords and fight back. It's carnage, but for us, it's normal." Armin paused, clutching the sheet and curling his wings around himself. "The scene changes, and we're both on the ground, facing a smaller Titan. There's a depression on the ground, and--and you trip in it, falling to the ground and scraping yourself. Mikasa sees and tries to run over, but then there's a sword through her chest, sprouting above her collarbone, covered in crimson. It's a member of the Military Police, the one holding the sword. Mikasa falls to the ground, lifeless eyes turned skyward, dead as anyone can be. The blood from the sword drips over her eyes, and it looks like she's crying. We scream, the Titan all but forgotten."

Armin's form quaked, his face contorting into a pained expression. Eren took one of Armin's hands into his own, grounding him.

"The Titans are gone. All of them are replaced with people, all holding swords or guns. It's a slaughter; we're equipped to fight Titans, not people. I'm seeing our other comrades fall. Desperate, I try to pull you into the air with me, but--" Armin stopped, raising his free hand to his mouth as he chokes back another sob. "But my wings are--they're sheared off, just bloody feathery hunks on the ground. They pull us away from each other. You're crying, fighting, resisting the best you can. It's no use, and they..." Armin screwed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth. "They kill you, right in front of my eyes, cleanly cutting off your head like how you would just wipe a crumb off the table. I'm the only one left on the field, surrounded by the dead, blood seeping beneath my boots. I'm not allowed to kill myself; all the weapons are gone and I can't seem to grasp anything. All I can see is red, and you and Mikasa's bodies are the only ones I can see clearly. It was like a terrible painting, one that I was forced to look at for what seemed like an eternity before I woke up." Armin went quiet. "I'm sorry."

"Armin," Eren breathed. "Armin, I'm sorry you had to deal with that." He pulled Armin into a frantic embrace, unable to fathom how he survived through these nightmares. Armin tensed at first, then melted into Eren, crying dry eyes into the crook of Eren's neck. Warm, wet breath chilled Eren's shoulder as he gathered Armin into his lap, careful to not hurt him. Armin desperately clung to Eren, his fists clenching bunches of shirt, his wings wrapping around them like a second set of arms hugging them. Eren held on tight, burying his face in Armin's hair. 

"I won't let us die like that," Eren whispered fiercely. "We're not going to die like livestock. We're going to the outside world, Armin. I swear it. Me, you, Mikasa. All of us. We're all going there, someday. I promise."

Armin nodded into Eren's shoulder, letting himself believe Eren's words even though the logical side of him knew they were too good to be true. He heaved for breath, short gasps, unable to fill his lungs with air. 

"Hey, hey," Eren said, running his fingers through Armin's hair. "Slow down, take a deep breath." Eren pulled away, holding Armin's chin in his hand. 

Armin's eyes flitted down, not wanting to meet Eren's. Crying was weakness. How could anyone want to be seen with him, the overly emotional kid who couldn't even fight properly? _Eren deserves better,_ he thought. _I don't deserve someone as great as him._ His eyes stung as he studied the bed beneath him, wrinkled sheets stained with wet spots, dirty feathers that had fallen from his wings, small lumps in the mattress from years of wear. 

"Armin? Armin. Armin, look at me. Armin, look at me." Eren tilted Armin's chin to face him. "Look at me, Armin. I want to see your beautiful eyes." Armin reluctantly met Eren's teal irises. Eren gave a soft smile. "There we go. Remember when we were kids and we had talked about the ocean? How we decided it must be like your eyes, a deep bright blue that you could stare into forever? Don't let them win. You've got an ocean inside you; you're worth more than you can ever imagine."

"It's just water, Eren," Armin whispered. "It's just salt water. Nothing spec--"

"Don't say that!" Eren hissed. "Don't say that. You can't give up! You can't..." Eren's eyes watered, the bottom of his lip trembling. "I can't lose you, Armin," he whimpered. "I don't know what I would do without you. We have to make it Armin. We have to see the outside world together. You can't give that up. Please, don't give up." His voice cracked on the last word. Eren took in a shuddering breath, letting tears run hot on his cheeks. 

"Eren," Armin gasped as Eren wrapped himself around him, taking in deep, broken gulps of air, drinking in Armin's scent like a drowning man breaking the surface of the water. "Eren, I--"

"No," Eren interrupted. "Don't be sorry. Don't apologize. We're going to, we're going to get through this together. You're not holding us back. It's okay. We're okay. We're going to be fine." 

Eren? Not able to live without him? Armin's eyes stung, and he started to cry again from the sheer force of the words Eren was saying to him. 

"I love you, Armin," Eren whispered, his voice ragged. 

Armin pulled back, his breath coming up short, unable to believe his ears. The phrase sounded foreign to him. "Huh?"

"I love you," Eren repeated, quiet, yet with a determined fierceness behind each word. He met Armin's eyes. "So don't ever think for one second that you're not worth anything, because you are worth everything to me." 

Armin's throat felt raw as he swallowed, his breath shallow and interrupted by sobs. "I... Eren," Armin pitched forward into Eren's arms. He wailed, and his eyes let out a reserve of tears, each one seeming to burn against his face as they soaked into Eren's shirt. He took short, frenzied breaths, letting Eren wash over his senses. Strong, soft hands running through his hair. A warm, musky smell in his nose. His quiet, wracked sobs matching his own. Armin felt weak, his arms shaky as he hung himself on Eren. He opened his eyes, the edges of his vision darkening with each hurried breath.

"Armin, take a deep breath," Eren said, pulling away. He took Armin's face in his hands. "Here, breathe in through your nose, and I'll count to four. Okay?"

Armin nodded, putting a hand on Eren's arm. He took in a shuddering breath as Eren slowly counted to four. 

"Okay? Hold it in. One, two, three, four. And out through your mouth, one, two, three, four." Eren smiled gently at him. "Good. We'll do it again, okay?" 

Armin nodded, pressing Eren's palm into his cheek. They went through five repetitions until Armin felt like he could breathe normally again. Exhaustion slammed into him, of being whipped around by the nightmare, the emptiness after crying, Eren admitting his feelings for him. 

"Feeling better?" Eren asked. 

"Yeah," Armin replied. "Thank you." He met Eren's eyes. 

Eren leaned in, pressing his lips against Armin's cheek. Armin stiffened, and Eren pulled away. 

"Was that wrong to do?" he asked, bringing his hands down and fidgeting with them. 

"I--no," Armin replied, mystified at the gentle warmness he felt blossoming in his chest. "Here, let me try." He tilted his head, roughly bringing his lips to Eren's. He tasted salt and sweat. The warmth in his chest radiated through him, like rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds. He quickly pulled away, taking a large gasp of air. 

"Was that okay?" he asked, his heart pounding. 

"Yeah," Eren panted. "Yeah. That was... Wow. Wow." Eren's eyes were wide and his cheeks were flushed. "More," he begged. 

Armin locked arms with him, and they darted in and out of each other's mouths like minnows, breaking away only to gasp frantically for air. They haphazardly moved around each other, tongues pushing off of each other as they interlocked together. Armin had bunches of Eren's shirt in his palms in front of his chest, and Eren was grasping Armin's back as if it were a lifeline. Eren's hands strayed too close to Armin's wings, and Armin let out an embarrassing moan in Eren's mouth. 

Eren pitched backward, pulling Armin on top of him. Their teeth clashed together painfully as Eren hit the mattress. He ran his hands down Armin's wings, making him moan louder. Each kiss grew longer, more desperate. Tongues pleaded entrances on chapped lips, hands grasping fabric and feathers, hearts pounding in a frantic, synchronized beat. Armin broke back, trailing saliva from his lips. He stared at Eren, eyes wide and gasping for air. His body felt like it was on fire, burning hot and red. 

"So much for breathing exercises," he panted as they both tried to catch their breath. 

Eren gave a low husky laugh. "My bad," he said, blushing. 

Armin laid in his head on Eren's chest, half-lidding his eyes. Eren's heart pounded in his ear, a passionate, driving beat thudding below him.

"I love you," Armin said, the words feeling swollen and heavy on his tongue. Despite that, it felt _right_ somehow, like the world had finally clicked into place. 

Eren grinned, bringing a hand up and petting Armin's hair. "I love you too," he said. He traced Armin's cheekbone down to his jawline. "Have I ever told you that you look like an angel?"

Armin rolled his eyes. "I'm not an angel."

Eren propped himself up, making Armin slip down his chest. Armin grumbled as he moved himself to Eren's side, his wing crumpled uncomfortably against the wall. Eren stared at Armin, bringing a hand up above his face. "Look," Eren said, tracing a circle above Armin's head. "You've got a little halo, right there."

"Eren," Armin sighed sufferingly. 

"Okay, okay," he said, bringing his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm done." The bed lurched as Eren sat up, swinging his legs over the side. "We should probably get some sleep. Hard day tomorrow and all that."

The pervasive darkness crept back into Armin's mind, making him freeze for half a second. He tried to close his eyes in order to get rid of the dread he was feeling, but that just brought images from his recent nightmare to his mind. "Wait," he said, grabbing Eren's arm as he rose from the bed. "Could you... Could you sleep with me tonight?" he asked, feeling incredibly foolish.  
Eren's face softened. He sank back down into the bed, throwing the covers back as he shimmied next to Armin. "Of course." 

Armin shifted over, moving his wing so that Eren could lay next to him. He flipped over, facing the wall and pressing his back against Eren’s chest. Curling in on himself, he closed his eyes, focusing on Eren’s body heat warming his back.

Mikasa’s face, bloody tears running down her ashen cheeks, burned beneath Armin’s eyelids. He whimpered, drawing closer to Eren. 

“You okay?” Eren whispered, wrapping an arm around Armin and finding his hand.

Armin squeezed it once. He felt tense, his muscles contracting in fear, an instinct itching him to spread out his wings and cower beneath them. “I keep seeing Mikasa. From the nightmare,” he replied after a moment, biting his lip. Embarrassment flushed through him. Surely he was stronger than some lucid dream. Wasn’t he? He furled his wings around him, pulling his knees closer to his chest.

Eren sat up, gently placing his hand on Armin’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said, removing his shirt. He thrusted the garment into Armin’s hands. “Hold onto this. I’ll get it back in a minute.” 

Bewildered, Armin merely nodded, sitting up and holding onto Eren’s shirt like a lifeline as he left the room. Once the door closed, Armin buried his face into it, taking deep breaths, reveling in the scent filling his nose. His lips still burned from Eren's kisses, smoldering embers flaking to ashes as each minute ticked by. It was strange how safe he felt holding Eren's shirt to his face, drinking deep gulps of air while reminding himself to keep breathing slowly. He felt peaceful amidst the roiling stress of each passing day and the claustrophobic responsibilities pressing down on him. 

_But Eren always was able to do this,_ Armin corrected himself. _Eren calming me down no matter what the situation has always been a constant. That's probably why even just holding this shirt is keeping me calm. He's been doing this for years, so I'm already hardwired to be able to relax and calm down around him. Maybe this is why I've been able to make it this far._ He clenched the shirt tightly in his hands, rubbing it against his cheek. Small loose threads tickled him, the cotton itching against his skin. He sank back, clutching the shirt to his chest, listening to his heartbeat thump quietly in his ears. 

Eren walked back in a few moments later, Mikasa trailing behind him. "I'm back," he announced. The two sat on the edge of Armin's bed. "Do you want us to sleep with you?" he asked as Armin reluctantly handed Eren back his shirt. 

Armin hesitated, then nodded. Mikasa soundlessly slipped over to Armin's right side, while Eren took up the left. Carefully, Armin dug himself back into the covers, feeling self-conscious as he adjusted his wings to a comfortable position. The two pressed up against him, the warmth from their bodies making him feel protected and sleepy. 

"Hey, Eren?" he whispered. 

"Yeah?" Eren whispered back. 

"Thank you," Armin said, his eyes growing heavy. He closed them, and no nightmarish images assaulted him. 

Eren hummed, finding Armin's hand and holding it loosely. 

Armin smiled, then finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

\---

Levi pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. The fire in the hearth was reduced to coals, and the first colors of dawn started to lighten the horizon. Papers surrounded the area in front of him, a pen balancing on the edge of the coffee table. One paper stood out from the rest, a letter in Erwin's sterile script, a blank area surrounding it like a quarantine. He sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. The contents of the letter he had already memorized, but that didn't make him any less agitated. What they wanted was an impossibility. Levi took another hurried glance at it, grabbing the pen and positioning it over his blank piece of stationary. 

_Erwin,_ he started to write. The pen hovered over empty space as Levi tried to summon the words he wanted to say. He ran over the words of the letter in his mind again, grimacing. _The brass have accepted our plea for a new mission,_ it had said. _However, their terms for the continuation of the Survey Corps is five percent or less casualties on our next expedition. Without Armin's involvement, the Corps will certainly be doomed. They will not let us access the archives, claiming that our presence in Sina will only anger the people. If there is any way to send out Armin early, take that route. The life of the Corps depends on it._

The kettle on the stove began to hiss. Levi welcomed the distraction, shrugging the blanket off his shoulders and walking over to the kitchen. Feeling uncharacteristically indulgent, he grabbed an odd-shaped wooden cup and metal straw, then plucked a small handful of dried yerba mate from the top shelf. He stuffed it into the cup, packing it to just over half-full. He placed his hand over the cup, then flipped it over, methodically shaking it as he removed the kettle from the stove. Carefully setting the cup down, he placed the straw on the opposite side of the mound he had created, then poured in the hot water. 

He padded back over to the sofa, blowing gently into the liquid. Steam curled over the edge of the cup, small puffs of air that smelled faintly bitter, and, so he'd been told, like the fields where the horses roamed in their free time. He took a sip, satisfied at the taste biting into his tongue. Hanji had always complained about his special drink, telling him about how it tasted like drinking liquified alfalfa. Mate was an acquired taste, he figured as he settled in, eyeing Erwin's letter displeasingly. He leaned back into the couch, turning his gaze to the window, sipping his drink as the sky threw out increasingly vibrant oranges and pinks, coloring splatterings of cirrus clouds as the sun rose. 

His mind began to wander, the warmth in his chest making him--finally--feel drowsy. _I’ve slept for maybe an hour last night,_ he mused. _Possibly two._ He had a vague memory of resting his head against the back of the sofa, then waking up to footsteps retreating to a room, his head on the armrest, a blanket curled around him. Closing his eyes, he let the sun break over him, the light blinding him for half a second. 

“I wasn’t aware we had brought your grass-flavored grossness,” Hanji appeared in front of him, blocking the sun. “Why do you even drink that stuff anyway?”

Levi groaned. “The kids these days say it’s healthy for you. Supposedly it helps with bowel movements, something I’m sure you need help with.”

“I’m not the one with a stick up my ass all day.” Levi could hear her playful grin. Sighing, he opened his eyes.

Hanji leaned over him, her messy hair glowing almost white in the morning sun, bright eyes studying Levi’s own, shoulders slumped, bags underneath her eyes. Another sleepless night for the both of them then. How she managed to always bounce back from the little hours of the morning, Levi had no idea.

“So what’s the plan for today?” she asked, moving around papers and sitting next to Levi.

Levi took a thoughtful sip. “Look at this,” he said, thrusting Erwin’s letter into her hands. She glanced over it, her brow furrowing as she read it once, twice, three times. Pursing her lips, she set it back on the table.

“That’s not good,” she murmured. “What are we going to do?” The mask broke, bright eyes turning dull, a weight settling on her shoulders. Responsibility. A heavy burden, considering what they were up against. By now, people must have been clamoring to finally shut down the Survey Corps, happy to live in their increasingly smaller cages, until they too finally broke down. It was only a matter of time.

Levi clenched his jaw, setting down his cup. “We do what we set out to do. What we’ve sworn to do. Wake Armin. It’s time to get him into the air.”

Hanji’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Are you sure he’s ready?”

“He doesn’t have a choice.” Levi stood, placing his hands on his back and pushing outward. A nasty popping sound followed as Levi continued up his back. “Hanji, we’re out of time. It’s fly or die at this point. You read the letter; Erwin wants him out as soon as possible. That gives us an even smaller window of time in order to get him ready to survive outside these walls. I don’t want him out there without us doing the best we could for him. If he doesn’t have the endurance, then we’re dead. Simple as that.” 

Hanji rose, falling into parade rest next to Levi as they watched the sun climb into the sky. “Do you honestly think we’ll make it out of this mess?” she said after a few moments, breaking the silence.

Levi shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. There’s only so many miracles that can happen.”

“I think our quota is already filled in that department.” A faint smile lifted her lips. “I mean, a kid who’s a Titan, another with wings, and Mikasa who is... well, Mikasa.”

Levi snorted. “How did we end up with so many miracle children anyway? Do you think if we got rid of them, the powers that be would save the Corps?”

Hanji regarded him. “I never took you as a spiritual man, Levi.”

“I’m not,” Levi replied. “If there is a higher power, then they must be a sadistic little shit, watching us all die like this. I’ve never had faith beyond my own person.”

Hanji hummed a reply. They stood, watching the sun rise for a few more silent minutes. Eventually, Hanji walked away, going to wake the trio. 

Levi turned back to his paperwork, grabbing his cup and finishing his drink. He cleaned his space, organizing the mountains of ledgers, letters, and other assorted bits of paper. Cleaning calmed him, somehow. The act of creating order from the chaos, turning back what many claimed to be irreversible, establishing purity from the discordant world around him. Sometimes, it seemed like the only thing Levi was good at anymore was cleaning. After all, he couldn’t save those closest to him, no matter how good of a fighter he was. The politicking of the upper crust made his head ache, and dealing with people in general made him irritable. There were days where he wanted to leave, turn back to a life of crime, where the adrenaline rushes weren’t quite as dangerous... But no, he had obligations. He had people that depended on him, for whatever reason. 

_I need to get more sleep. All this introspection is annoying._ Creasing his brow, Levi plucked his cup from the table, taking it over to the kitchen and washing it carefully. 

“Levi! You have to see this,” Hanji appeared behind him, startling him and making the cup fumble in his hands.

“How many times do I have to tell you _not_ to sneak up on me?” Levi groaned, setting the cup down on a towel to dry. “I don’t want to break anything. You and stuff breaking seem to go hand-in-hand. Like my head, for instance. Here I was, having a perfectly placid morning, and now I think I have a migraine. Who signed me up for this?”

“Who cares. Come!” Hanji bounced away from him, beckoning him to follow. Rolling his eyes, Levi followed her. They stopped in front of Eren and Armin’s room, Hanji slowly turning the doorknob and opening the door. “Look at them,” she whispered, gesturing into the room.

Levi peered in. Dim sunlight dappled the room, falling over the mess of blankets and bodies taking up the bed in the corner of the room. Looking closer, Levi could make out Armin’s wings sprawling over two other people, almost protectively. Eren was curled into the crook of Armin’s neck on one side, black feathers shrouding him, an arm straying over Armin’s chest. On the blond’s other side, Mikasa was pressed up against him, hands next to her chin, white feathers covering her lower half. Armin’s left arm was around what Levi hoped was just Eren’s waist, his other hand above his head, fingers tangled in his own hair.

“Isn’t that adorable?” Hanji whispered behind Levi, hands clasped together and glowing like a proud mother.

Levi wrinkled his nose, venturing into the room. He picked up a stray pillow, then hucked it at the sleeping forms, hitting Armin square in the face. He jolted awake, wild blue eyes flying open, frantically tossing the pillow off his face. His wings flung open, jostling awake Eren and Mikasa. The three sat up, eyes widening as they noticed the corporal hovering over them. 

"Rise and shine, you filthy animals!" Levi called. "I expect to see all of you dressed and ready to go in the front room in ten minutes." He sauntered back to Hanji, smirking as he met her horrified gaze. ”Oh, and Armin?” He turned to face him.

“Sir?” Armin said, his shoulders slumped and wings drooping tiredly, now that the rush of adrenaline had left him.

“Don’t bother with the maneuver gear today.”

Armin’s head jerked up, his eyes widening, mouth parted in a small “oh” of surprise. “But sir, that means--”

“Yes, you’re flying today,” Levi interrupted. 

“Am I ready?” Armin bounded from his bed, stumbling as he vaulted over Eren, who was still blinking sleep out of bleary eyes. He rocked on his feet, then straightened up, snapping into a salute. “I mean, I’m still not entirely sure that I can. I don’t think I have enough strength or endurance to fly for an extended period time at the very least...” He trailed off, troubled.

“You’ll do fine, Armin,” Hanji smiled behind Levi. “We can work on endurance later, but for today, let’s get you up into the air without any help.” She twirled on her feet, leaving the corridor, Levi following close behind.

Eren scrambled out of bed, his feet catching on the blanket, making him trip as he went over to Armin. Mikasa followed more gracefully behind him. 

"I can't believe it," Armin breathed, stunned. "I knew this day was coming, I just never expected it to be so... soon." Nervously, he ran a hand through his primaries, straightening out kinks and rubbing out dirt. 

"You'll do fine," Eren said, clapping a hand on Armin's shoulder. "And if something goes wrong, we'll be there to catch you if you fall."

Armin caught his gaze, blushing as Eren smiled at him. "I guess I'm just nervous," he said, turning his attention back to his feathers. 

"You'll be okay," Mikasa said. "Don't let nerves get the best of you. Like Eren said, we'll be here to help." Hesitantly, she placed her hand on the wing Armin was preening. When Armin didn't flinch away, she ran her hands through the feathers, helping him straighten barbs and clean off debris. Eren took it upon himself to do the same to his other wing. 

Armin felt his shoulders relax as the two groomed him. He sighed happily, sinking back down onto the bed. _If someone had told me even a few months ago that my two best friends would be helping me clean my feathers, I would have never believed them,_ he thought. _Then again, I also wouldn’t have believed them if they had told me I would be flying._ He grimaced, pulling back his wings slightly. _Assuming that I’ll be able to, that is._

“Alright, that’s enough, you two,” Armin announced, folding his wings out of their hands. “We have to get ready.” He stood back up, preparing to get dressed. Eren let out a huff of disappointment, but didn’t try to pull Armin back down.

A few minutes later, the trio filed into the kitchen, ready to face whatever the day had in store for them. Levi placed the morning’s meal in front of them; oatmeal with ground cinnamon sprinkled on top, with chamomile tea on the side. The food was delicious--Levi’s cooking always was--but Armin found he could barely stomach the meal. His insides churned dangerously, anxiety claiming his appetite. He took a few sips of his tea, breathing in the scent to calm him down. The butterflies raged in his stomach, making him feel nauseous. Setting his cup back down, he curled his wings around him, nervously running his hands over his feathers.

Eren glanced at him, giving him a small smile of encouragement. Armin didn’t meet his gaze, unable to trust himself to not let the fear overtake him.

On the way to the clearing, everyone was uncharacteristically silent the entire walk there. Armin’s hands were in his feathers nearly the whole time, anxiously preening in a vain attempt to calm him down. His steps were methodological; right, left, right, left. _Don’t think about it,_ he tried to console himself as the trees began to thin. _You’ve been doing fine, everyone will be around to help you, you’ll be okay._ Grimacing, he shook his head, deciding instead to count his steps. Eren and Mikasa kept glancing back at him, sharing the same concerned expression, Eren biting his lip, Mikasa furrowing her brow.

Two hundred and forty-one steps later, the small group stepped into the practice clearing. Levi spun around on his heel, facing the group with a grim expression. “Well, this is it. The moment we’ve all be waiting for,” he said, his voice a controlled monotone. “Hanji, you and I will be up on Eren’s shoulders, ready to maneuver over to Armin if he needs help. Mikasa, you’ll be up over there on those trees, prepared to anchor into Eren. Eren, obviously you’ll just try to catch him like what you’ve been doing. And Armin?”

Armin snapped into a salute, clinging to familiarity amidst the apprehension that surged through him. “Yes, sir?” he asked, his voice wavering, his feathers fluffing out against his will.

Levi regarded him carefully, his jaw clenched and his lips pursed. “Don’t... Just don’t do anything stupid, alright?”

Armin nodded, feeling sick. _If Levi is asking me to be careful, then he must be more worried about this than I realized,_ Armin thought. His eyes flickered over to Eren, seeking the comfort he had felt last night. Eren caught his gaze, giving him a small smile. It was strained, Armin could tell, but it helped him slightly nonetheless. 

“When you’re ready to take off, fire a green flare, _slowly_ count to five, then jump. Now, everyone, to positions!” Levi called, backing away from Eren. Mikasa flew away on steel cables, gracefully landing on her assigned branch. Hanji clapped Eren on the shoulder, giving him a thumbs up, then joined Levi to wait. Eren grimaced, shooting another worried glance at Armin, then bit into his hand.

The blinding flash and exploding hiss of steam always startled Armin. It was just something you could never get used to, watching the figure rise from where his friend had stood only moments before, bones and flesh snapping into place, the mass reaching higher and higher until a Titan stood in its place. Eren looked down on him, Armin flinching as he met the huge teal irises. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Eren, but there was _something_ about having a Titan, even a friendly one, staring down at him that made Armin feel that uncomfortable jolt of fear course through him. Eren knelt down, keening pathetically as Armin felt his wings start to mantle above him, holding out his hand to pick up his riders. Levi all but shoved him into Eren’s hand, brusquely telling him to get a move on. Hanji gave him a sympathetic smile, pulling him upright.

Eren dropped off Levi and Hanji on his shoulders, then continued to raise his hand until it was extended all the way over his head. Armin nervously peeked down, seeing Eren looking up apprehensively at him, the ground below a distant memory. A breeze blew past him, ruffling his feathers and throwing hair in front of his face. He shakily pulled out the flare gun, but refrained from firing it until he could gather his nerves.

 _I can’t believe I’m doing this,_ Armin thought as he stood upright, rolling his shoulders and shaking out his wings. He opened them partially, closing his eyes, focusing on the wind blowing through his feathers. The sun beat down, pulsing warmth on his face. Carefully, he extended his wings to full length, cupping them and catching air. Opening his eyes, he gave a few flaps, testing them out for what could very well be his last time, feeling the eddies swirl off the tips of his feathers. _This is it. Today, right now, is fly or die for me._

Eren curled the tips of his fingers, giving a low whine from below. Armin glanced back down at him, lifting his mouth in the approximation of a smile. His form shaking with anxiety, he took position at the heel of Eren’s palm. _All you have to do is run off, like you’ve done so many times before. It’s not that hard. You know how to land, you can always land if you can’t do it. You’ll know what to do. It’s just flying._ Armin grimaced, gripping the handle of the gun tightly, his knuckles white. 

Before he could reconsider, he lifted the gun above his head, and pulled the trigger. Green smoke choked the air above him as he began the countdown. 

_One._

He dropped the gun. It would only be a bother while flying.

_Two._

Flying. He was going to be _flying._

_Three._

What would it feel like, having nothing but the wind holding him up? Would he know what to do? Would he be able to stay aloft? Or would he plummet to the ground below, disappointing everyone yet again?

_Four._

His hands were shaking, the edges of his wings quaking as he spread them out to full length, black and white feathers trembling excitedly in the wind. He tensed, preparing to take off at a run.

_Five!_

He took off, pumping his wings. Eren’s hand seemed to be much shorter than he remembered, what he thought was a long distance compressing in what Armin counted as only four steps. He launched himself into the air, pushing off at the tip of Eren’s finger. 

Wind clawed at him, tearing away his screams as he fell. He flapped wildly, trying to gain purchase in the unrelenting sky. This wasn’t beautiful! This wasn’t flying! He was going to die! He was going to collide into the ground, dead as anyone could be! Armin widened his feathers, slotting his primaries and curving in his secondaries, screwing his eyes shut at what was definitely going to be a hard impact. It wasn’t working. He was falling, falling, falling--

He was being buoyed up, warm air beneath his wings, rising higher into the sky. Armin hesitantly opened his eyes. Treetops soared beneath him, and even Eren looked tiny as he rose higher on an updraft. Excitement bubbled up within him, and Armin found himself laughing as he climbed higher in the sky, giving a flap of his wings to steady himself. He knew what to do. He knew how to maneuver the air beneath his wings, how to draw his wing closer to him for the upstroke, how to spread out his primaries for maximum lift for the downstroke, how to lock his wings in place and glide on the invisible currents.

This, this was _his_ domain.

People had always said how maneuver gear was humans taking mastery of the third dimension, but as Armin soared higher above the earth, he realized they were all wrong. Flying on his own two wings, being able to make minute adjustments to steer himself where he wanted to, _that_ was mastery of the third dimension. Maneuver gear was akin to a baby learning how to crawl compared to this. 

Beautiful, glorious wind rushed past him, pushing hair out of his face, twisting over and above his wings, swirling off into circling eddies on the tips of his feathers. Curling in his right wing and extending his left, he slowly banked back around towards the clearing, bending his left knee in and keeping the other straight, using them like a rudder.

Eren roared triumphantly below him, rushing through trees in order to stay underneath Armin. Armin could see three puny figures on his shoulders, and he could swear he heard Levi cursing at Eren’s lurching gait down below.

He felt invincible. No Titan or person could even dare to touch him up here as he soared high above the treetops. He gave an elated whoop, watching Eren come to a halt beneath him, eyes to the sky, mouth hanging open in wonder. He felt like he could fly forever, that he could endlessly twist around in the sky, that he could pull into a dive and--

And why not?

Uncharacteristically throwing caution to the wind, he brought his wings close to his body, curving the arm of his wing into a V-pattern, ballooning his feathers behind him. The sky screamed past him as he fell. He felt his third eyelid slide across his sclera, protecting his eyes from the sharp winds flying past him. He watched the earth come up to meet him, his hair whipping around his face, pure joy radiating through him as he fell. Before gravity had its chance to take its revenge, Armin spread out his wings, air rushing underneath them, surging back up into the sky. He laughed blissfully, dancing with the sky, arcing up, dipping down, twisting with the currents he instinctively knew how to ride. 

All his life, Armin had deemed himself as useless, the wings as an annoyance rather than a gift. He had stifled himself, content to stay in his cage that was the ground, his feet tied and his wings clipped. The wings were a hindrance, a reminder that he wasn’t like everyone else, a weakness. Now, riding the winds as free as any bird, Armin realized that his entire existence was like walking around in a stupor, never truly experiencing real life, that everything he had lived through seemed to be building up to this one moment. He lived, he _lived._ Euphoria filled his entire being, the wondrous feeling of having nothing but sky above and sky below, warm wind under his wings, him, _him,_ slicing through the air, creating openings in the swirling currents for him to climb higher, to curve, to twist, to _fly._

Armin locked his wings, gliding high above the forest. The ground seemed but a distant memory, the walk to the clearing an age past. He marveled at the scenery, picking out patterns in the treetops, seeing breaks in the trees and the castle where the Corps was stationed, surveying the mountains and the Walls deep in the distance, villages and cities creeping up against what seemed like a line of greenery hedging the urban districts. 

Rising higher, Armin closed his eyes, spreading out his arms and feeling the wind twirl beneath his fingertips, a huge grin on his face. Cold air bit into him, but he didn’t mind. The rapture he felt while flying kept him warm, though the logical side of his mind reminded him that he would soon tire, and that adrenaline could only keep him warm for so long. With a mental sigh, Armin opened his eyes and pulled his wings in to dive back down towards the treetops. He could hear Eren pining down below before he came into his sight. Eren’s hand was shielding his eyes from the sun, Mikasa, Levi and Hanji on his other hand, eyes trained to the sky. Armin dipped down above them, laughing when he swooped dangerously close to their heads, Levi ducking down and cursing at him lightheartedly. He circled around Eren’s head, not wanting to land yet.

Eren held out his other hand, palm flat, just in case Armin needed to land. Instead, Armin came right at his face, making Eren flinch backwards as Armin landed on the tip of his nose, grabbing a handful of hair to balance himself. Eren gave a quiet rumble, the edges of his eyes crinkled and his mouth stretched into a smile. Armin beamed back at him, giddy with emotion, his heart pumping, a pleasant buzz in the back of his head. Giggling, Armin twisted around and launched back into the air, flying up to a comfortable height above the trees. He drifted, letting instinct take hold as he focused on nothing but the wind beneath his wings.

\---

Levi had his eyes trained on Armin as he twisted in the sky, obviously enraptured by his newfound ability. It wasn’t hard to feel a small pang of jealousy, watching Armin fly, renouncing gravity with every flap of his wings, becoming one with the sky, able to be _free,_ if but for a few sweet moments. It wasn’t hard either to feel that same euphoria Armin was giving off either, an innocent and pure type of happiness that Levi hadn’t felt in a long, long while. He let the warm feeling rise within him, pulling his lips up into a smile as he watched Armin dance with the winds. 

Hanji nudged him on the shoulder. “Is that a smile I spy gracing your face?” she asked playfully, turning her gaze back up to the sky. She had a huge grin on her face, tracing every one of Armin’s movements with her eyes.

“No,” Levi replied. “I’m just gassy.” The smile refused to drop from his face.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Hanji sighed dreamily. She gasped excitedly when Armin fell into another dive, his laughter ringing pure through the air.

“Scruffy pile of feathers,” Levi agreed. He turned to face Mikasa, who was watching Armin’s flight silently. Levi had heard whisperings in the Survey Corps that the great Mikasa Ackerman never felt any emotion, which was why she was the perfect soldier. Levi scoffed at that; she was definitely feeling something right now. He picked out the childlike sparkle in her eyes, the way her lips were parted with the edges crinkled up in wonder, the way she hedged up on the tips of her toes, as if she could take off into the air and join him. 

Shaking his head, Levi twisted around to look at Eren. He snorted quietly to himself. He had never seen a Titan had never looked so happy before. Eren's eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, his gruesome grin straining against itself, as if he would end up ripping what little remained of his cheeks. He watched every small movement of Armin's, swaying his body to follow each turn and twist. Every muscle and nerve conveyed a sense of amazement, watching Armin achieve what could only be glory beyond the bounds of imagination. 

Levi found his own cheeks straining to contain the stupid grin on his face that he couldn't seem to stop. He turned his gaze back to the sky, feeling his body follow the same movement Mikasa was making; rising up on the balls of his feet as if he were going to jump off. Hanji gasped again next to him, and Levi thought he saw tears well up in her eyes. 

"Isn't it just _amazing_ to watch, Levi?" she breathed reverently. 

He watched Armin cleave through the sky, the ground below all but forgotten to him. His form looked radiant, framed by forget-me-not blue skies, silver-streaked cirrus, outlined by a halo of sunlight shifting around him. His angelic laughter sung true through the skies, giving a gentle tug at emotions Levi didn't know he still possessed. He found himself nodding to Hanji's statement, letting the warm feeling of peace settle through him. 

"It is," Levi replied, clasping his arms behind his back and falling into parade rest, trying to compose himself. _I shouldn’t be feeling this,_ he reprimanded himself. _Remember what happens when you care? They end up dying. Don’t let yourself care. It’ll only cloud your judgement. I’m sending this kid off on a solo mission. He might not return. Don’t let yourself get attached, or it’ll end up like... like the Special Ops Squad all over again. You don’t care about this, you don’t care about these kids. They are soldiers, they are only tools for the good of humanity._

He was lying to himself again.

Levi sighed, shaking his head. There wasn’t a way he could find himself _not_ caring about his charges, even if they were only bratty fifteen year old kids that happened to be some of the best sort of people he had ever stumbled across. It was amazing, really, that they still held on to their dreams with white-knuckled fervor, refusing to let go even when all hell decided to break loose around them. And, as Levi watched Armin fly, he found himself unable to set aside the sense of pride he felt for them. In a way, he figured, he had helped Armin achieve this part of his dream, so wouldn’t it make sense that he would be feeling this welling of emotion within him, this feeling of wanting to--god forbid--jump up and shout, pile in for a group hug, or something else that was entirely too sentimental for him? 

Armin came swooping down above their heads again, breaking off Levi’s train of thought. Muscle memory kicked in, and he found himself ducking, even though he knew Hanji would probably end up getting knocked on the head first. Cursing the day he found Armin in the supply closet, he straightened up, the edges of his lips still curled up into a smile. Armin circled around Eren’s head, Eren trying to twist around to keep up with him. Armin broke away from his circle, coming instead at the hand the small group was on. He landed by Mikasa, stumbling into her arms, still laughing elatedly. Mikasa grinned, returning the impromptu hug. Armin bounced away, twirling around and preparing to jump off of Eren’s hand again.

“Armin,” Levi stopped him, grabbing his shoulder. 

Armin twisted towards him, his cheeks flushed, eyes wide, exhilaration coursing through him. “What is it, Levi?” he asked, breathless. The edges of his wings trembled, and Levi could feel Armin shaking underneath his grip.

“You’ve got to let your body rest,” he said. “You’re shaking like a leaf. Are you feeling hungry? Dizzy? Nauseous?”

Armin paused, as if just barely noticing his body telling him to stop and rest. He shuffled his feet, the the grin on his face dulling. He gazed skyward, wanting nothing more than to keep flying, his feathers twitching in the wind. “I-I guess I need to eat something.” He cocked his head in realization. “I’m _starving._ ”

Hanji nodded. “Makes sense,” she said. “I’d imagine that flying takes a lot of energy, especially since you’ve got a lot of weight for those wings to tow around. The coefficient of drag must be dismal for you, seeing how you aren’t that well streamlined like an actual bird.”

“You’ve got to pay attention to cues your body gives you, Armin,” Levi fussed. “We can’t have you passing out in the sky just because you got so excited that you forgot how to breathe.”

Armin ducked his head, color rising in his cheeks. “Sorry, Corporal. I got a little carried away.”

“You got that right,” Levi huffed. “Now come on, we’ll get you something to eat.” He motioned for Eren to put them down, but before Eren could move his hand, Armin vaulted off, opting instead to plunge down on his own two wings.

“You piece of shit bird,” Levi grumbled under his breath as Eren lurched underneath him. He smirked as Armin tripped as he landed, stumbling to his hands and knees, his wings tenting above him. Mikasa jumped off, gear hissing as she came to his side to help him up. The instant Eren’s hand hit the ground, there was the tell-tale hissing of Eren coming out of the Titan’s body. Eren tripped as he ran over to Armin, still trying to regain his bearings.

“Armin! I can’t believe it, Armin!” he gasped, threading an arm around his shoulders. “You were flying! You were _flying!_ How did it feel? What was it like?”

Armin grinned back at him, his eyes flickering back up towards the sky, bouncing on the balls of his feet with every step he took, as if he was going to take off again. “It was--it was... Wow. It was amazing, Eren,” he beamed. “I felt like I could stay up there forever. You know how like when you break through the treetops on maneuver gear? It’s almost like that, except you can stay up there for as long as you want. It’s so beautiful up there. It’s like, it’s like I’ve finally become _whole._ ” He closed his eyes, unfurling his wings. “Having nothing but the wind beneath my wings, that was... I can’t even describe it. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s _amazing,_ Eren.”

Eren gave Armin a sunny smile. “Sure sounds amazing, Armin,” he grinned. “Watching you up there was,” Eren paused, searching for the right words, scrunching his brow, “I could’ve watched you forever.”

Armin blushed, smiling shyly back at him. He met Eren’s eyes, then tilted his head back, gazing longingly at the sky. “I can’t wait to be flying again.”

“Armin!” Hanji nearly bowled Armin over as she came running to him with open arms. “Armin! How do you feel? Your wings aren’t numb are they? You were up there longer than we intended. Are you feeling dizzy? Feverish?” She slapped the back of her hand to Armin’s forehead, checking his temperature. 

Armin shrugged her off, stumbling on his feet as he twisted away from Hanji’s touch. “I’m feeling fine, Hanji. I’m feeling great,” Armin protested. He blinked rapidly, his vision swimming and the earth swaying dangerously beneath his feet. Mikasa caught him as he stumbled sideways, his wings flaring out as he tried to right his balance. 

“Armin!” Eren’s voice sounded far away as the world became a tiny pinprick to Armin, the edges turning black and fuzzy, his ears feeling like they were stuffed with cotton, his sense of touch failing the further he slipped to the ground.

The last thing he saw before he completely blacked out was a puff of black and white feathers, and six figures rising above him.

\---

_”Armin!” Armin flinched, twisting around, his feathers fluffing up in fear. He shied away from the window, glancing at the colorful trails of people crossing in the street in front of him, the sky beckoning him with increasingly saturated blues on whites, an ocean above him ready to be explored. He met his mother’s eyes, drawing in his shoulders and wrapping his wings around him, a nearly visceral wave of disappointment washing over him._

_“Yes, Mama?” he asked, his voice small and weak._

_“How many times do we have to tell you?” she hissed, grabbing Armin’s arm and pulling him away from the window. “When your wings are out you don’t go by the window, okay? Or else bad people will come and take you away. You don’t want to be taken away by the big, scary bad people, would you?”_

_Armin shrank back, images of faceless men in black and brown forcibly pulling him away from his parent’s comforting arms. “No, Mama,” he said, turning his gaze to the floor beneath him. He picked out particles of dirt sprinkled on the ground, small, downy feathers becoming brown and matted, crumbs of dinners past that have escaped from the kitchen. He sniffed, his eyes watering as he looked up on his mother’s face. She gave him a soft smile, gathering him up into her arms._

_“Don’t be scared, Armin,” she said, her voice now like a gentle caress. “You’ll be okay, we’ll all be fine. Daddy will be coming home soon, and Grandpa said he’d be bringing home some fresh fruit from the market today. Do you want a nice, big, juicy apple today?”_

_Armin’s eyes lit up. “Yes, Mama, yes!” He wiggled out of her grip, his wings trembling excitedly._

_She looked at him, and Armin thought he caught a small flash of regret flash across her face. As fast as it came, it was gone, and her eyes filled up with tender care. “Here, could you go get Daddy’s book for me? I’ll close up the curtains, and we can read it together when Daddy gets home, okay?”_

_Armin’s eyes grew wide. “The ocean book?” he asked, bouncing excitedly where he stood._

_“Yes, the ocean book,” she laughed. “Now, hurry along, before he gets back!”_

_Armin squealed as he ran through the small house, stumbling over his feet as he skidded into the room they had purposed into a small library. He scrambled over to the small bookshelf in the corner, deftly plucking up the fake board and reverently taking the book out of it’s hiding place. Gently wrapping his hands around the book, he carefully walked back to the living room, testing out each step before placing his weight._

_The front door creaked open, making Armin yelp and dive underneath the kitchen table, pulling the tablecloth over him to hide the book and his wings. Brown boots scuffed on the ground, stopping right next to Armin’s hiding spot. He whimpered, drawing in on himself and clutching the book like a shield. His wings raised above him, fluffing out a downy mantle of black and white feathers. The tablecloth rose, and someone peered underneath._

_“Armin? Is that you?” Armin’s father was pitched forward, his eyes crinkled up at the edges, a kind smile on his face._

_“Daddy!” Armin rushed out from his hiding place, first setting the book down on the table then running into his arms. He laughed as his father lifted him up, twisting him in the air as Armin flapped his wings. They twirled around, Armin giggling gleefully with every little wingbeat._

_“How was staying with Mom?” he asked, placing Armin carefully on the ground again._

_Armin’s face lit up. “I watched the sky today, and helped Mama clean the house!” he burbled, bounding back over to the book. He picked it up delicately, then thrust it into his father’s hands. “Mama said you’d read for me when you came home!”_

_Father traveled over to the sofa, gathering Armin in his free arm and steering his wife with him. “What do you want to read about today?” he asked, settling Armin in his lap, deftly avoiding Armin’s excited flapping, plucking out a loose feather from his right wing. He opened the book, and Armin flipped through the pages._

_Armin stopped on an illustration of an endless expanse of water, strokes of seabirds wheeling about paper-crinkled clouds, ink bleeding from cresting waves of crackled paint. “I wanna read about the ocean!” Armin cried, taking his father’s finger and steering it to the top of the text. He looked back, staring expectantly at him._

_A wide smile filled his father’s face, and he took Armin’s hand in his own, tracing over each word as he read to him._

\---

The first thing that Armin became aware of when consciousness hit him like a slap to the face was a sharp, pervasive soreness raging through him. He tried to groan, but his mouth felt drier than the snowfields of sand he had read about. Blinking awake, he noticed Eren hovering him over him, Mikasa at his side, with Hanji and Levi watching intently a comfortable distance away. He tried to speak through the feeling of cotton stuffed down his throat, but all that came out was an undignified squawk and a wheezing cough. 

“Don’t,” Eren said, gently propping Armin up and pressing a glass of water to his lips. Armin grasped it with shaky hands, downing the glass in greedy gulps. 

“More,” he rasped, nearly dropping the cup as he passed it back to Eren.

Eren nodded, his face pale as he went to get more water. Armin sunk back into the pillows, belatedly recognizing the sofa beneath him, his wings propped out at a semi-comfortable angle. He _hurt,_ muscles strained and filling with sharp needles of pain. He swallowed, trying to drive away the dryness in his throat, moaning with each movement he made. 

“How are you feeling?” Hanji asked, concern in her voice. 

Armin shook his head, closing his eyes and trying to keep the gorge from rising up and out of his throat. Eren rushed back to him, pressing another blessedly cold glass of water to his lips. Armin stopped himself from gulping down the water, controlling himself to take small sips so that he wouldn’t end up vomiting. His thirst quenched, he sighed, beginning to pick through dirty feathers.

“Remember when I told you to not do anything stupid?” Levi drawled. 

Armin blushed, averting his eyes. “Sorry, Corporal,” he muttered. He squinted against the sunlight, his head pounding behind his eyelids. 

“Next time, take it slower, alright? We don’t have any time to waste on you recovering because you decided to overextend yourself,” Levi said. He turned on his heel, Hanji giving him a sympathetic smile, then following him. 

“I feel like shit,” Armin mumbled, resting his head against the pillows despondently. Mikasa took his hand, rubbing her thumb over the top of his palm, Eren sitting at his feet. He sighed, closing his eyes, letting the sun wash over him. An old memory, one almost like his vivid dream--more like a memory, really--washed over him; sickly coughs and battered wings wrapped in blankets with sips of hot soup. His parents watching him carefully, monitoring anyone who dared try to get near him. Soreness and watery eyes against punctuated flashes of consciousness and parched dry throats like tanner’s hides. Curtains closed and no visitors allowed, lest they find out about Armin’s secret.

Armin scrunched his nose, wrapping his wings around himself and pulling his hand out of Mikasa’s. _The curtains should be closed,_ he thought, closing his eyes against the bright light that pulsed on him. _Mama always wanted the curtains closed when my wings were out._

“What was that, Armin?” Eren asked.

Armin winced; he hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. “The light is bright,” he amended. “Could you close the curtains?”

Eren pursed his lips, knowing that Armin wasn’t giving him the full story, but closed the curtains anyway. He sat down next to Armin’s feet, hesitantly running his hand through his feathers, cleaning off the dust entrapped within. “Is this okay?” Eren asked.

Armin nodded, letting himself relax. His body still ached, though he knew by tomorrow he’d be fine. His regeneration abilities were slow, and the more injured he was, the slower they went. Straining his body this bad, well, healing himself would take a long while. If he focused hard enough, he could almost feel his muscles working to knit themselves back together, the tingling feeling of buzzing sandpaper rubbing against itself beneath his skin. He grimaced, turning his focus instead to Eren’s hands running through his feathers. His eyes grew heavy, the gentle lapping of pleasurable sensation of being preened lulling him to sleep.

Eren rested his head against the edge of the sofa, gently pulling Armin’s wing into his lap, threading his hands through Armin’s quills repeatedly. Mikasa scooted over next to him, playing with the fringes of her scarf.

“Hey, Eren?” Armin said, turning over to face him.

“Yeah, Armin?” Eren took his hands off his feathers, putting his arms down by his side.

Armin shifted his weight, wincing as his body protested. “Could you...could you tell me about the ocean?” he asked, his cheeks dusting with color. He blinked, the world snapping back into focus.

Eren gave him a soft smile, his hands returning to the pile of feathers on his lap. “Well, from what you’ve read, it looks endless, right? An endless expanse of water, filled with salt. Salt water! Just imagine it, Armin, an endless supply of salt!”

He stopped to take a breath, fingers running over Armin's quills. “And there’s so many different creatures there, like giant swimming fish the size of Titans, water bugs, plants that live underwater, and strange things that glow in the dark.”

Eren paused, looking back at Armin.

Armin was quietly snoring behind him, his chest languidly rising and falling with each deep breath. Eren’s face softened into a fatherly grin, gently placing Armin’s wing into a comfortable position. He kissed Armin’s forehead, then helped Mikasa up, leaving Armin to rest peacefully in the lengthening shadows of the small streams of light peeking its way through the curtains.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry for this massive wait, but unfortunately it's just going to get worse from here. Finals are coming up, so I need to focus on my schoolwork :c I'll try to get stuff out as fast as I can! If you want to know progress, just shoot me a message on my tumblr, gladiatoraviator.tumblr.com and I'll reply as swiftly as I can! 
> 
> With that out of the way, another announcement: I've decided to split this chapter up. Which means next chapter will be coming out probably on the back half of this week. It was reaching critical mass (16k and still counting!) so I've split it up at the current halfway mark. 
> 
> And, as always, my awesome betas DJ and Kai making sure my work is the best it can be. Without them, I definitely wouldn't be able to reach the quality of writing you now read today. Give them some love at their own AO3's: clockworkcourier and minorthirds <3 I love you guys and thank you so much for reading!

The air blew cold on Armin's chest, the crisp, white light from the full moon peeking out from rounded, silver-streaked cumulus his only companion. He shivered, wrapping his wings tighter around him to stave off the chill biting into his bare torso. The wind howled, rustling pines and bushes, creating a crackling river of sound above him. Gritting his teeth, he clenched the knife tighter in his hand, the other holding the offending shirt. He place the tip of the knife to the fabric, hesitating. 

_You've got plenty of other shirts, Armin,_ he told himself. _Having one shirt outfitted for your wings won't matter in the long run. You deserve the comfort, right?_ Creasing his brow, he gingerly placed the blunt edge of his blade in his mouth, holding the steel in his teeth, lips curled back, tongue shying away from the metallic tang. He held the shirt up by the seams of the shoulders against the moonlight, puzzling over where to start the two cuts. 

Craning his neck over his back, he ruffled his wings, trying to get a feel of where they would break out from the shirt. Returning the knife to his hand, he stretched the fabric using his legs and other hand, preparing to make the cut. Armin pursed his lips, the tip of the knife shaking pensively on the fabric. Before he could reconsider, he drove the steel through the matrix of threads, each _snap snap snap_ of string falling like the judge’s gavel on his ears. He cringed as he continued, the rasping of fabric shredding apart grating against the rushing wind hissing above him. He moved onto the second cut, a sense of urgency coursing through him as he made a symmetric slice, as if the fabric would close itself up if he didn’t move fast enough. The shirt shifted in his hands, and the knife slipped, making Armin cry out as blood welled out of torn skin, then steam, then perfectly knitted skin forming over disappearing white scabs like a stream shifting over a pebble.

He set the knife down, holding the torn shirt to the dimming moonlight, two twin slashes showing shifting black trees through pristine white fabric. Armin’s hands shook as he brought his arms back in, giving the garment a critical eye. He stood, then threw the shirt on his back, leading his wings through the newly made cuts. The fabric itched against the feathers, but, for whatever reason, the world seemed to shift into something more _right._ He buttoned up the shirt, giving a few experimental flaps of his wings to see how it would perform. Satisfied, he leaned back against the cabin wall, closing his eyes and letting the wind ruffle through his feathers.

 _I wonder how flying at night will be like,_ Armin thought, opening his eyes and turning his gaze towards the moon. _However, I may have to keep myself grounded at night if yesterday taught me anything. I’ll have to keep my strain to a minimum once I’m beyond the Walls._ His feathers rippled in apprehension. _Beyond the Walls... I still can’t believe it! Less than two weeks, and I’ll be beyond the Walls. I wonder if I’ll be able to make it back alive._ Armin shook his head, straightening up and embracing the wind with his wings. He sighed contentedly, remembering the glorious feeling of flying that overtook him yesterday, arcing up and down with the currents and dancing with the winds. 

“Armin!” 

Armin flinched, spinning on his heel towards the voice, hands in fists in front of him and his wings spread menacingly behind him. He relaxed his stance as he saw Eren coming towards him. Eren took Armin’s hands in his, quickly flipping them over and checking them. 

“I thought I heard you cry out. What’s going on?” Eren asked, pulling Armin’s hands towards his chest.

“I’m fine, Eren,” Armin said, shaking Eren’s hands off of him. “How did you find me?”

Eren fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “The window was left open, and I know you don’t like it when it’s left open, so I thought something had happened to you. Then I heard you shout, and so I went to find you.”

Armin dipped his head, biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to leave the window open. Sorry for waking you and making you worry. Really, I’m fine.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to his unharmed self.

“What were you doing, anyway? Sneaking out, it’s not like you, Armin,” Eren asked, furrowing his brow.

Armin averted his gaze to the ground. “Nothing, Eren. It’s nothing.”

“Armin,” Eren said sufferingly. “You wouldn’t sneak out for fun. What is it?”

Armin sighed, his shoulders slumping inward and his wings wilting around him. He stood quietly for a few heartbeats, trying to gather up the correct words. “I felt... wrong today. Well, tonight, I guess. I don’t really know when or why, but today when I was changing for bed, you know how I have to dismiss the wings in order to switch clothing? Well, not having them, I felt... _off._ Like I didn’t belong in my own skin.” He paused, locking his gaze with Eren’s. “I didn’t want to feel like that again, so I came out here to, uh, modify one of my shirts.” He flapped his wings twice to emphasize his point, blushing. “It’s really stupid, Eren, but I can’t feel like that again, if I can help it.” He shuffled his feet, casting his gaze back down to the ground, studying the scuff marks in the dirt he was making.

“Do you feel better now?” Eren asked, tentatively placing a hand on Armin’s shoulder.

Armin hesitated, swaying beneath Eren’s touch. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I do feel better.” He sighed, his knees buckling beneath him and he slid down to sit on the ground, Eren joining him. Their backs were to the cabin wall, eyes faced to the tops of dimly lit trees, the breeze ruffling hair and feathers. Eren hummed, gathering up Armin’s wing into his lap, gently pulling his hand through the soft quills, as if he’d been doing it for years instead of a few measly weeks. Armin sighed, extending it further into Eren’s lap, letting his mind wander as Eren tended to his unruly feathers.

“Are you proud of them?” Eren asked suddenly, jerking his hand away from the feathers to face Armin.

“What do you mean?” Armin asked, blinking owlishly at Eren.

“The wings. Are you proud of them? You looked absolutely _amazing_ flying yesterday,” Eren said, breaking his gaze from Armin, his cheeks dusted with color.

Armin shifted his weight uncomfortably, folding his other wing into his lap. He pensively ran his fingers over the shaft of one of primaries. _Am I proud to have them? I’ve accepted them, haven’t I? Isn’t that good enough?_ he asked himself. _No, I’ve done more than just accepted them. They are... they are a part of me. An integral part of me. I guess--I guess I am proud to have them._

“Armin?” Eren asked, making Armin flinch, breaking his train of thought. “You okay?”

Armin nodded, returning his attention to his feathers. “When I was little,” he began after a moment, “after my family died, I had thought that the wings were a curse. I hated everything about them, how they would come at the worst times, the way they seemed to engulf me.” He paused, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “Because of the coloring, I had thought that if I joined the Survey Corps, they would finally leave me alone. I thought they were just a way to remind me of what I was destined to be, of what I had to accomplish. But now, they’re so much more than what I thought they’d ever be. I had never imagined that one day I would be _flying._ It’s amazing, Eren. It’s amazing to be up in the sky, with nothing but the wind underneath your wings, the clouds your only company, the gentle rushing of air the only thing you can hear.”

Armin sat back, closing his eyes with a gentle grin on his face. “Maneuver gear is so childish next to actual flight. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to readjust when we have to go back. At the very least, it’ll only have to be for a few days before I can fly again. I’ll never be able to go back to the way I was before. So, to answer your question, yeah, I am proud of them. I’m glad that Levi helped me with them, that you know about them now, that I was able to experience flight. The wings are a part of me, and I’m glad to have them.”

Eren hummed a reply, the set his head on the crook of Armin’s neck, leisurely petting through the feathers in his lap. Armin shifted into a more comfortable position, pulling his wing out of Eren’s hands and draping it over their shoulders instead, and laying his head on top of Eren’s. Eren found his hand, rubbing circles into the top of his palm. Wind hissed through leaves and needles above them, the sky growing dark as a cloud passed over the moon.

“What was it like?” Eren asked after a moment, moving Armin’s wing closer to him.

“What do you mean?” Armin asked.

“Having to hide these all the time,” he paused, scrunching his brow. “I mean, I’ve known you for forever, and you’ve just barely told me--us--and so, that’s a long time to be hiding. How did you manage for so long? I can’t imagine it was always easy, especially once your family...” Eren trailed off.

Armin stiffened, pulling his head off of Eren’s. “Why do you want to know?”

Eren shrugged. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just--I figured you’d probably never had anyone to talk to about it. Besides your parents, I mean.” He paused, huddling closer to Armin as a chill gust bit into them. “If you don’t want to--”

“It was tiring, mostly,” Armin interrupted. He sighed, his shoulders drooping, furling his wings closer to himself. “Nobody was supposed to know. They always told me that if someone found out, I’d be taken away, _we’d_ be taken away. The older I grew, the more I hated the wings. What was the point of having something nobody else had if I couldn’t even use them? All they did was make me different, a reminder that I wasn’t human. I didn’t want to accept them, because if I did, then what would that make me? A freak? A monster? Something worse? They were heretical. If someone higher up found out about them, then that would be the end of me.”

Armin hesitated, biting his lip and turning his gaze to the ground. “It was easy, at first. My parents were there to make sure nobody happened upon me when they were out. The wings were small enough that if someone had to come over to pick up something, a baggy sweater would cover them up. That oversized blue jacket I always wore? It was in case they came and I wouldn’t be able to run home in time. Though, I still had to be careful even then. They form over clothing, so there was always those few seconds when they would come out that I could be seen. Of course, once I started getting older, they grew bigger to accomodate.”

“Makes sense,” Eren nodded. “You wouldn’t be able to get lift otherwise, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Armin said. “But that’s beside the point.” He began tracing lines over his wing, trying to muster up the right words, squeezing Eren’s hand for comfort. “I had never meant to make you guys worry for me, in the few years before enlisting. But what was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to lose you, and I didn’t know how you would react if I told you. So I kept it quiet. The Training Corps was especially stressful, since I wouldn’t be able to just run off in the middle of a drill. Luckily, be it through the sheer magnitude of stress put upon us, or perhaps just pure luck, the wings didn’t appear that often, and when they did, it was in a place where I could easily hide. Remember that one time I was in the shower for far too long? The wings had appeared, and I couldn’t very well just waltz out with wings, now could I? Every moment was filled with worry; what if they came out during a drill? What if they came out while we were working in the cities? Any time we were in public, I was scared if I felt even a twinge of discomfort down my spine.”

“So you could feel them coming?” Eren asked.

Armin nodded. “It didn’t used to hurt so bad,” he said, running his fingers down another shaft. “At first, it was just a mild discomfort down my back, then the wings would appear. But, again, the older I got, the more they hurt. It went from a simple twinge to pins and needles, and eventually it was so bad that I would be screaming and bleeding by the time they appeared.” He sighed, his eyelids drooping. “I’m not sure why it doesn’t hurt anymore. Not that I’m complaining, but,” he hesitated, biting his lip. “I don’t know, Eren. It’s just been so _hard,_ you know, growing up like this.” 

“Hey, Armin, it’s okay--”

“No. No, it’s not okay, Eren,” Armin interrupted, his voice wavering. “I never felt okay growing up like this. What was I to do? I couldn’t very well go tell anyone about this. The last time someone found out, they were killed! And it was all because of my incompetence, because I couldn’t hide fast enough.” He grimaced, clenching a handful of feathers in his fist. “Do you know what it’s like, having to hide yourself away, because if you don’t, you’d end up being killed? I know we’ve all had hard lives, I _know_ that, and I shouldn’t be complaining, but god, it was awful!”

“Armin,” Eren tried, scooting closer to him.

“I didn’t want to die,” Armin whispered, tears stinging the edges of his eyes. “I still don’t want to die. Having to stare mortality in the face every day, it was so hard, Eren. Some days, I didn’t think I could take another step, that I should just be found out and done away with. Who would’ve cared if I was taken away, never to be seen again? Who would’ve cared if I was strapped down to a autopsy table, getting dissected or even vivisected? I don’t think human rights would apply to me, so what would have stopped them?” He took a hurried breath, holding it in for a couple heartbeats, then exhaling. “To be honest, I still don’t know where I found the reserve to carry on. But, somehow, I’m still here, so I guess I better make the best of it. Who knows, I could--I could very well die on this expedition I have to go through in a couple of weeks.” 

“Armin, you’ll be okay,” Eren said, though the words sounded fake to his own ears as they left his mouth. “You won’t be on the ground, so Titans won’t be able to get you. They aren’t active at night. You’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. You’ll make it back, safe and sound, I promise.” 

It sounded like Eren was trying to convince himself more than convince Armin. His breath was hurried as he gathered up Armin’s hands into his own, burying his face into them, repeating _you’ll be okay_ like a madman’s mantra. Armin was stiff, his wings spread out from the shock coursing through him. He didn’t know what to feel. Anger at himself for letting his emotions run rampant? Sadness for the way his life had strangled out all semblance of safety? Determination to do better, to be worth it for Eren? 

Eventually, he pulled his hands out of Eren’s, opting instead to drown in an enveloping embrace, clutching Eren’s shirt with shaky hands, wrapping his wings around them both. Eren choked back a sob, desperately pulling Armin closer to him, constantly readjusting his grip, as if a part of Armin would disappear unless he was holding onto it. Armin let himself be smothered by Eren, a chill running down his back as the fragility of his mortality overtook his thoughts. Hands brushed over crumpled fabric, over feathers sprouting from smooth skin, the thrashing waves of Eren’s fingers rippling around Armin’s back like raindrops pounding against a roaring river. Armin gathered Eren up into his arms, quietly speaking to him and running his hand up and down his back. 

“You have to make it back,” Eren whimpered. He buried his face into the crook of Armin’s neck, Eren’s tears chilling his neck, making him shiver from the cold. “Please, Armin, you have to make it back. I don’t--I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t want your death on my hands too. I don’t know what I would do.”

“Eren. Eren, I’ll be fine,” Armin lied. “I’ll be--I’ll be perfectly fine. It’ll only be a couple of weeks. I’ll be fine.” He swallowed, a wave of nausea washing over him. 

_I hope._

A pathetic hiccup escaped from Eren’s lips as he shuddered against Armin’s small frame. Armin nestled closer to him, hoping that what little comfort he was able to give was helping him. He ran his fingers through Eren’s hair, whispering softly and letting him know he was there. Anguished, Eren pulled away, tears staining his face as he regarded Armin, his mouth parted, the corners of his lips pulled down in a frozen, quiet sob. Tentatively, Armin cupped his cheek, and Eren pressed his head into it, bringing up a cold hand to hold it. Armin shivered from the touch, his body seeming to remind him about the less than perfect weather right as a freezing breeze rushed past them.

Eren pursed his lips, gently tugging on Armin’s hand on his cheek. Armin complied, leaning closer until their faces were mere centimeters apart. Armin met his eyes, the teal looking muted against the dim silver light highlighting tears hedging up and over the edges of his eyelids. Eren’s mouth strained into a grimace; a mere approximation of a smile was all he was able to give. 

There was a moment of hesitation as Eren swallowed, still staring into Armin’s eyes. Then, he leaned forward, letting his forehead touch his. An electric shock seemed to course through them both, a small jolt shuddering mirroring shoulders, eyes flashing up to face each other, hands finding and grasping too-smooth fingers. Rasping breaths chilled collarbones, hearts thundering into one synchronized rhythm. Time seemed to slow, seconds lengthening into eternities as both boys closed their eyes, focusing only on the hands entwined within each others, the warmth on their foreheads chasing out the cool air surrounding them, breaths attuned to a singular hurried harmony.

“Armin?” Eren whispered, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a sword through Titan flesh.

“Yes, Eren?” Armin said in an equally quiet tone. It felt almost sacrilegious to break the quiet of the night, the trees seeming to hiss louder in order to drown out their voices.

Eren shifted, pulling his head back and staring at Armin with haunted eyes. “Promise me you’ll make it back safely,” he said, biting his lip.

Armin tightened his grip on Eren’s hands. “I will,” he said. _Promises don’t mean anything,_ the logical part of his mind interjected. _How could you promise something as heavy as that? You don’t even trust yourself that you’ll make it back safely. Is giving him false hopes a smart thing to do? You don’t even know if you’re lying..._

Armin pursed his lips, untangling his hands from Eren’s and standing up. “We should--”

“Get some rest?” Eren finished, following his lead.

“Yeah.” Feeling more than a little self-conscious, Armin hesitantly gathered Eren’s hand in his, squeezing it for comfort as they left the freezing night and quietly tread back into the warm, stagnant air of the cabin.

\----

“Are you sure it was a good idea to put those two in the same room? I mean, when I woke them up this morning they were sharing the same bed again,” Armin heard Hanji saying down the hall. He paused, stopping Eren behind him with a quick stretch of his wing. 

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? Have a kid sleep in the same room as me?” Levi replied tersely. “That’s disgusting.” The conversation lulled, and Armin glanced back at Eren, his head tilted at an unspoken question.

Eren nodded once, beginning to move his feet, then paused again when Levi continued, “You’ve seen how they are, Hanji. I wouldn’t want to separate them more than I already have to. They work as a team, the type of team that speaks without words and can follow unspoken commands. Strengthening that bond will only help them later on, when there’s no time to think and they have to act.” Another silence. 

“It’s dangerous, cultivating friendships like that. You know what could happen if one of them dies--”

“I know,” Levi cut her off. “God, but do I know, Hanji. But they don’t deserve the heartbreak of fallout either. I can’t do that to them. They trust each other, like how I trust--trusted my squad. It’s a rare thing, Hanji, to find people who have already been tempered by the flames of this hell.”

“If only the brass would see it that way,” Hanji sighed.

Levi made a noncommittal grunt. Chairs squeaked as bodies shifted, a heavy silence falling over them, and Armin could faintly hear the gentle rasp of skin being stroked. He motioned for Eren to fall back, as if they had just barely gone out of their room. Eren fiddled loudly with the doorknob, then they both walked forward with deliberately noisy steps. Armin broke through the invisible barrier first, noting Levi’s hand covertly pulling away from Hanji’s outstretched arm on the table.

“Morning, Corporal,” he said, giving a quick salute.

Levi sized him up, stiffening for a moment when he noticed the way Armin’s shirt fell around, not through, the wings. He stood, motioning for him to take his seat while he went to prepare the morning’s breakfast. Eren slid in next to him, clasping his hands on top of the table.

“Where’s Mikasa?” Eren asked.

“Out taking care of the horses,” Hanji replied, moving to join Levi in the kitchen. He grimaced, waving her away like he would a bothersome fly. With a shrug and a gentle pat on Levi’s head, Hanji returned to her seat.

“Care to give the debriefing for the day, shitty-glasses?” Levi said over his shoulder. 

Hanji nodded. “Sure thing, little guy.” She deftly dodged the rag that shot past her head, facing the two boys. “How are you feeling, Armin?”

“I’m doing fine,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Good to hear. That means we’ll be going with ground take-offs today,” she said. “This will obviously take more energy than just jumping off of Eren’s hand, seeing how you’ll have to work on getting enough wind underneath your wings before ascending. So, we decided on doing only ten reps today, where you’ll take off, be in the air for about five minutes, then land, take a small resting period depending on how tired you get, and repeat. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?” She grinned affably at him. “Afterwards, we’ll get you started on the art of cartography. Think you can handle that?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Armin said. 

“Good. Of course, we’ll be on the ground in case anything goes wrong, maneuver gear at the ready. It shouldn’t be too bad.” Hanji leaned back, resting her head on the edge of the chair. 

Armin mirrored her movement, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander. Mikasa came in a few moments later with a quiet “good morning,” sliding into a seat next to Eren. The room was silent, save for Levi rummaging through dishes in the kitchen and the creaking of the wooden floors. The window murmured in its frame, tiny gusts fluttering against it and making the glass shudder. Boots scuffed against the ground, a quiet conversation of kicks and squeaks. Armin shifted, giving a self-satisfied grin as his feathers brushed over his hand. He would be ready. He would make them all proud.

A hand clapped down on Armin’s shoulder, startling him. Levi’s stormy grey eyes met him, his mouth creased into an unreadable line, the fingers gripping him a hair too tight. He searched Armin’s face, opening and closing his mouth before finally speaking. 

"Don't lose that shirt. We can't have you developing a taste for mutilating Corps clothing,” he said, releasing his grip. 

Armin looked back at him, stunned. “Y-yessir,” he defaulted, unsure of how to react. Levi nodded once, returning to the kitchen. Armin blinked once, twice, three times, staring down at the thick grain of the table. Scrunching his brow, he focused on a particularly blackened knot, half-lidding his eyes in an attempt to coax out his third eyelid. It snapped out for half a second, twinging muscles that Armin didn’t know he possessed. He let out a huff, squinting and trying to flex muscles that certainly did not want to be flexed at this moment in time.

 _Come on,_ Armin groaned inwardly. _I have to learn how to control all of these aspects in case something goes wrong. This shouldn’t be harder than blinking. Why won’t it work?_ He brought his hands up to his face, digging the heel of his palm into his eyes. Colorful starburst appeared before his eyelids as he let the weight of his head fall into his hands. He took a deep breath, then brought away his hands, blinking rapidly to dispel the black shapes that dominated the edges of his vision. He could feel the offending eyelid swipe across with every blink, but he couldn’t make it cover his eye like how it had when he was flying.

 _Perhaps it’s just a somatic response that reacts only to high winds?_ Armin wondered. _But that doesn’t explain why I feel like I should be able to control it on a whim. It’s just barely out of reach..._ Sighing again, he stared at the knot in the wood, letting his eyes unfocus and his mind go blank. The eyelid lazily slid across, and Armin had to resist the urge to blink. It quivered as Armin focused to keep it in place, straining facial muscles as he attempted to have the eyelid move back partially, then close again. His vision flickered, blurring as he blinked, then held the eyelid closed. He grinned to himself, the simple victory giving him more satisfaction than he cared to admit. 

“Armin, what are you doing?” Hanji’s voice pierced through his concentration.

Armin blinked owlishly, driving away the third eyelid, the world snapping back into focus. “Huh? Oh, it’s nothing,” he said quickly, color rising to his cheeks.

Hanji grunted, obviously not convinced, but she didn’t press him. Instead, she turned her attention back to Eren and Mikasa, conversing with them in quiet tones as Armin turned his attention to his palms curling on his knees. He sighed, letting his wings fall over his shoulders, enveloping him in a warm blanket of black and white feathers. 

The clatter of ceramic against wood silenced chatter and eliminated half-formed thoughts. Levi perched on the edge of the seat next to Armin, and Armin pulled his wings closer to his body, balking as Levi scooted ever so slightly towards him. 

“Dig in, you little shits,” Levi deadpanned, lazily gesturing to the plate in front of them. The meal was simple today; military rationed bread with perfect slices of cheese adorning the off-white top, three cups of mint tea, one cup of black tea. Levi took hold of the rim of his teacup, bringing it carefully to his lips. He raised an eyebrow in Armin’s direction, and Armin sprung to action, hastily grabbing the food before him.

The bread was disappointing at best, the cheese masking its bland flavor. Eren coughed beside him, throwing a hand to his mouth as he choked down the meal. He turned to Armin, his eyes seeming to say that they had been ruined by Levi’s cooking forever. Armin rolled his eyes, taking another bite of the mediocre bread. 

\---

A few minutes later, the group made their way outside to their practice clearing, Armin stretching his wings to the wind, the gentle swishing of maneuver gear heard from the hips of his friends. He twisted about on his heel, taking a full panoramic view of the sky. The sky was a deep blue, fluffy white clouds to the north, a blossoming bruise of thunder in the south. He peered into the midnight black clouds--was the storm front rotating or just a trick of the eye from far away?--trying to divine how much time they had before the storm would hit them.

“We’ll be done before that hits,” Hanji said reassuringly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s still plenty of kilometers away. This exercise shouldn’t take long anyway.”

“Right,” Armin said, his voice wavering. He pointedly turned away from it, facing Eren and Mikasa instead. They gave him hopeful smiles, eyes alight with encouragement. Armin gave a small smile back to them.

“Now, which direction feels the most correct for you to take off?” Hanji asked, turning Armin’s attention back to her. He spread out his wings, closing his eyes and cocking his head, feeling the wind rush past him. For a few heartbeats, Armin floated, the clearing gone, only him and the wind present. Gusts breezed past him, ruffling feathers, tossing hair, breathing against his skin like half-told secrets and midnight kisses.

 _This way,_ it whispered to him. _Turn to face me._

Armin complied, taking small, twisting steps, letting the wind guide him with its hands. Lips parted to cold bursts of air, he spun on lightweight feet, testing each direction, angling his wings to what felt right. Something within him clicked, the wind’s caress enveloping him. _There._ He opened his eyes.

Grey skies met his vision. Roiling thunderclouds churned in the distance. The wind hissed back at him, constricting around him like a closing fist. Armin stepped back, flinching. “This is it,” he said, breaking out of his trance with a shiver.

“The headwind?” Levi asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I would have figured the tailwind would be more helpful.”

“No, this feels right,” Armin replied. “Tailwinds are better when you’re gliding, I think.”

“Well you would know, since you’re the only one of us here that can fly,” Eren muttered behind him.

Armin gave him a look, then faced Hanji. “Should I go?” 

“When you’re ready,” she replied, a sunny grin on her face. “We’re all ready, right?” She took a quick survey of the three behind her, Eren and Mikasa giving her a single nod.

“Just go, you filthy animal,” Levi drawled, catching Armin’s gaze.

“Yes, sir!” Armin said, then he took off at a run, pumping his wings. Air coiled beneath him, eddies swirling off the tips of his primaries. He grimaced, thrusting his wings harder, widening out his primaries to their fullest, spreading out his alulas above him. Wind was forced beneath him, and he _pushed_ off from the ground, giving a mighty downstroke, the tips of his wings brushing the ground. He jerked into the air, stabilizing himself with a few uneven flaps and a twist of his legs.

Armin heard the telltale hiss of maneuver gear behind him, and he chanced a look. Eren landed on a treetop branch, a hand placed on the trunk for balance. Armin climbed higher, the same exhilaration from yesterday bubbling in him again. He let the currents guide him, riding tailwinds and rising on warm updrafts. However, he stayed relatively close to the ground this flight, not letting the clearing out of sight, now that Eren wouldn’t be able to go Titan and catch him if he fell. He drifted, taking single flaps only when necessary, lazily circling above the clearing.

Five minutes of gentle soaring later, he plunged back to the ground, sticking a perfect landing. Muscles pricked and groaned as he stretched out, rolling his shoulders and shrugging his wings. 

“Good! That was very good, Armin!” Hanji clapped her hands together, bounding up to him. He deftly pulled a wing out of her way as she did a quick check up on him, testing his pulse, monitoring his breathing, assuring that his vitals were all working normally. “Think you can improve anything? We have to make sure you’re as swift as possible getting off the ground.”

“Deeper flap, spread out more to maximize surface area and see if there’s a way to do all that while conserving energy,” Armin replied after a moment. “But I think the best would just keep doing repetitions. I have to learn how to do this so muscle memory can direct me.”

Hanji nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Levi?”

Levi faced him. “One minute rest. Then do it ten more times.”

Armin nodded, letting himself fall to the ground. He made a quick analysis of his wings, going over his feathers, testing to make sure he wasn’t overexerting himself without him knowing. 

“You okay, Armin?” Mikasa asked, offering a hand to help him up.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, taking the outstretched hand and hoisting himself back up. “I’m feeling okay, don’t worry.” He sighed, dusting himself off, then faced the horizon again.

Bloated, inky black clouds lumbered closer, barrelling across the landscape like a thundering beast. Lightning flashed within the interior, shining through holes in the clouds like hundreds of eyes. Wind howled back at him. _Stay back. Stay out. You have no jurisdiction here._ Armin’s heart fluttered like a caged bird just staring at it. _Stay out, stay out, stay out._

“S-sir,” he wavered, feathers starting to fluff out against the chill he felt crawling down his back. “We might want to end early. I have a bad feeling about this.” He gestured to the stormclouds looming on the horizon. _That storm front is definitely rotating. It’s not fast enough to be a tornado, however. What would that mean for the air currents? Are they getting pulled in or is there a persistent longitudinal draft? Either way, I don’t think I’d want to be flying anywhere near that._

“Arlert, you’ll be fine. Just do it two more times you colossal pansy,” Levi grumbled. “We don’t have time to waste, so get up there.” 

“I-”

 _”Now.”_ Levi’s tone left no room for discussion.

Armin flinched back. “Yes, sir,” he responded demurely. He dipped his head, turning on his heel to face the storm. The wind bared its teeth, thunder growling just below his hearing. He bit his lip, his heart thudding against his chest as he prepared to take off again. 

_Stay back, stay back, stay back._

Armin forced down the primal fear overtaking him, pushing himself into a run, each footstep another pounding heartbeat towards the storm. He spread his wings, wider, wider, each wingbeat a harsh cacophony of snapping wind and feathers beating through the unrelenting air. Gritting his teeth, he fought to shape the wind beneath his wings, grasping for purchase in the air. His instincts screaming against him, Armin pushed off the ground, gaining altitude on unstable currents. He hurriedly twisted away from the storm, opting instead to ride the tailwinds away, the clearing quickly falling behind him. He soared higher, attempting to find the sense of wonder he was sure he was supposed to be feeling as he climbed upward. All he felt was a deep sense of foreboding, a sense older than him, as old as time itself.

 _This doesn’t feel right,_ Armin thought as he spun back around towards the clearing. _Something is wrong._ Dread filled him, making his body feel like lead, each turn and flap of his wings becoming more sluggish, his heart pounding heavily in his ears. He looked at the horizon, fighting against howling headwinds to make it back to the clearing. 

Clouds swallowed the closest towns, the sky darkening as the storm bared down. Armin paused mid flight, an instinctual terror filling him as he watched in horror as the storm began to ravage the landscape. Churning, black and blue clouds twisted into grins, lighting flashes highlighting the wicked teeth of the storm, ready to devour Armin in its jaws.

 _This is horribly wrong,_ Armin decided, a pit of fear lodging in his stomach. Snapping his wings close to his body, he plunged back down to solid ground. He stumbled as he landed, losing his balance and landing on his hands and knees. A weight seemed to lift from his chest, the air suddenly easier to breathe. Safe, he was safe. He gathered himself, swallowing hard and lifting his head to face Levi. 

“Levi, I don’t think-”

“Arlert, so help me, get back up there or else. One more rep, then you can go hide under your sheets.” Stormy grey eyes met his, and Armin couldn’t decide which storm he would rather face. He bit his lip, tucking his concerns under his tongue as Levi’s glare pierced through him.

Armin averted his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he said quietly. His body screamed at him as he turned towards the headwind, hands and wings trembling as he faced the black horizon. _Just one more rep. You can do one more rep. Cut down on gliding if you need to, but you can do this one more time,_ Armin told himself. He _had_ to prove that he could do this, that he was strong enough to face his fears. It wasn’t even going to last for five minutes. He could stuff down his terror for five minutes; he was a soldier. That’s what soldiers _do._ Soldiers stared death in the face every day.

So why couldn’t Armin force himself to face this?

A warm hand slipped into his, grounding Armin. “It’ll be okay,” Eren said softly. “Nice and quick, like putting antiseptic in a wound. You can do it.” He squeezed Armin’s hand once, then let go, stepping back into position.

Armin nodded once. _I can do this,_ he thought as he spread his wings for the final time. Each footfall added another iota of primal fear as he ran towards the storm. Each stroke of his wings was another weight of terror gripping him, holding fast as he pushed off the ground. The wind was sharp, slicing around him as he ventured higher into the sky. Armin locked his wings, soaring on a single draft away from the looming clouds that circled closer to him. His breaths came in quick bursts, mirroring the thundering of his heart as he tried to sail as far away as the storm as possible.

 _Control your breathing,_ Armin reminded himself. _Corporal wouldn’t take too kindly to me passing out in the sky because I forgot how to breathe._ In, out. In, out. Slow, controlled. Steady. _Steady._

He lurched in the sky, the wind suddenly freezing in place. For a terrifying moment, Armin stalled in the air, losing precious altitude. Then, with a nasty pop of his ears, the wind resumed blowing. 

Except, now the wind was blowing backwards. Armin was swept up in the swift currents, the storm tugging him in, the twisting clouds far too close for comfort. Fear swelled within his breast, making him freeze as he was pulled in, helpless against the blustering winds.

 _No._ Armin grit his teeth, focusing with all his might to steer himself in the right direction. The wind threw him sideways, up, down, like a limp ragdoll. _No!_ He could see his goal; the clearing, Eren, Mikasa, Levi, and Hanji all staring up in horror. He could do this. He _would_ survive! He had to!

Armin pulled his wings close to his body, going in for a dive. The wind fought back, slipping underneath the wings and thrusting them open, making Armin spin higher, head over heels over wings over head. Disoriented, he struggled to tell which direction was _up,_ and which was _down._ He was torn backwards, the stormwall a raging beast, its jaws agape, lightning flashes spelling out eyes and teeth, primed to devour the sky’s intruder. He couldn’t move. He was helpless in the wind’s grasp.

Armin screamed as the winds took hold and thrust him into the tempest’s greedy maw.

\---

Eren watched in horror as Armin slipped in the sky, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling up as a chill washed through him. He was frozen in place, the wind falling still around him, the pressure dropping, the air rushing out of his lungs as he watched Armin fall. Suddenly, the wind picked up again, throwing hair in his face with a vengeance.

“It’s the wrong way,” Hanji whispered next to him. “Levi, the wind is blowing the wrong way.”

Eren’s limbs cracked as he peeled his eyes away from Armin’s tumbling form. “What do you mean, ‘the wind’s blowing the wrong way?’ ” he asked harshly.

Levi met his eyes. Eren flinched; he had never seen the corporal look so stunned. His face was drained of color, his jaw slacked, his eyes wide and scared. Levi blinked once, and the emotion was gone, replaced with a carefully constructed mask. “It means,” he said, “we messed up. Come on, we have to get out of here.” 

“But what about Armin?” Eren hissed, his gaze returning to the sky. He could make out a flash of black and white feathers against the bruise-colored sky, the stormwall looming down upon them. It wouldn’t be long until Armin was caught in it. Eren squeezed his eyes shut; the storm winds would tear Armin apart, ripping off his wings, pulling him apart chunk by bloody chunk. He should’ve stopped him. He should’ve saved him!

“What are we supposed to do?” Levi spat back at him. “With these winds, the maneuver gear won’t set correctly, and how are we supposed to reach that high? There’s no choice. We have to leave without him.” He turned to go, tugging Hanji’s wrist and pulling her out of her stupor. “We have to hurry.”

“We can’t just leave Armin!” Eren choked. “He’ll die! We have to at least try to save him. You can go on the gear, I can go Titan and catch him, we can--”

“No, Eren.” Levi’s tone carried an air of finality. “The risk is too great. We can only hope that he’ll be able to land on his own.”

“But--”

“Eren,” Mikasa placed a shaky hand on his shoulder. “Eren, I’m sorry--”

“No!” Eren pushed out of her grip. “He’s your friend too, Mikasa, we _have_ to help him! He’ll die if we don’t do something...” Eren took a step forward, tears stinging the edges of his eyes as he watched Armin plummet down, then get thrust sideways again. The wind laughed in his ears, taunting him. He had to...

“Hurry,” Levi roughly grabbed the back of his collar, roughly pulling him into the right direction. “We don’t have much time.” Hanji and Mikasa started off at a run in front of him, wind whipping their hair in front of their faces, the chill biting into them.

“Armin,” Eren whirled around, falling to his knees as Armin was forcefully shoved skyward. He fancied that he could hear his voice screaming over the roaring winds.

The stormwall churned closer, raging across the landscape with the company of howling winds and thunderous lightning. It dominated the sky, an unstoppable force bearing down on Eren’s best friend.

Levi cursed behind him. Before Eren knew what was going on, the corporal had tossed him over his shoulder, breaking off into a run back towards the cabin. 

Eren shook himself out of his stupor. “Bastard!” he yelled, pounding his fists against Levi’s back. “You fucking bastard! He’ll die! We didn’t even try to help, and now he’ll die! You didn’t even _try_ to do anything! You’re going to kill him, you don’t even care about him!” He tried to wriggle out of Levi’s grip, but he was too strong. Eren screamed, raw anguish ripping through the air.

“Eren, stop,” Levi said, voice halting. He picked up his pace, catching up to Hanji and Mikasa, his body as taut as a bowstring.

“Armin!” Eren cried, his voice cracking. “Armin! _Armin! ARMIN!”_ He watched in horror as Armin was propelled downward, spinning head over heels over wings over head. He choked back a sob, tears spilling out from his eyes.

Another lifetime away, he was being carried away from the crushed remnants of his home, a Titan brushing away broken timbers like a child knocking down blocks. Eren could only watch as his mother was scooped up into its grasp, pounding helplessly against the fist encasing her. Eren could hear screams, but they were so far away, so surreal. He knew he should look away, he knew he shouldn’t watch his mother’s last moments, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away. The screams were suddenly cut off, and the world was bathed in red.

Eren blinked hard. _Why am I remembering that now?_ He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to accept the parallels.

Armin was always good at finding parallels. 

_No!_ Eren hung limp on Levi’s shoulders, letting himself be jostled with every step he took. _No past tense. He’ll make it. Armin always makes it. He can survive. He will survive!_ He clenched his fists, anguished sobs wracking through his body.

“Bastard,” he croaked again to Levi. He couldn’t forgive him. He _wouldn’t_ forgive him. 

“I’m sorry,” Levi whispered miserably. The words were hollow, empty, utterly useless. 

Soon enough, they had reached the cabin, throwing open the door and running inside. Levi deposited Eren on the ground, then pointedly turned his back on him, his face contorting into a pained grimace. Mikasa kneeled down next to Eren, tears staining her face as she rubbed Eren’s back, a vain attempt to console him. Eren staggered to his hands and knees, sobbing and crawling over to the window. He placed his hands on the cold glass, watching, waiting, hoping to see a blur of black and white and gold. 

The wind howled back at him, throwing sticks and leaves into his field of vision, rattling the window. Eren didn’t even flinch, preparing to sit vigil for Armin’s return. He would make it. He _had_ to make it. 

The stormwall hit.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never trust a writer. We never get things out on the dates we say we will (and I'm very sorry about that!) But hey, it's here now and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> I'm also upping the rating for this chapter and for stuff later on. 
> 
> Putting in a plug for my betas, DJ and Kai. Thank you so much for all your help, and this chapter would be terrible without them! Extra thanks for DJ for all her medical knowledge! Visit her at clockworkcourier, and Kai at minorthirds. Read their stuff; it's very inspirational and excellent.
> 
> For more emotional distress, listen to "Mother, I'm Here" by Darren Korb (from the Bastion OST). You'll know when to start playing it ;)
> 
> Again, thank you for reading! <3 I wouldn't be here without y'all.

The sky ruled in absolute power.

Armin was tossed up, down, sideways, any and every which way. The world was chaos; blinding flashes of lightning against the sharp smell of ozone. Deep, booming thunder like overlapping heartbeats pounding in his ears, throbbing against his eyes. By some miracle or sheer luck, Armin was somehow able to keep himself oriented. He could barely hear his screams against the cacophony of the storm. Rain bit into him like arrowheads, small cuts of pain whipping his skin.

Another blast of wind slammed into him, filling his wings with too much air and making him spiral upward. His screams tore away from his throat, icy cold tendrils forcing their way down into him instead. Panic seized him, and he froze, unable to control his limbs. His wings felt like they were going to tear away from his body, forcefully tugging against his back with every new gust that assaulted him. He tried to curl into himself, but the storm was too strong, unwrapping him like a child tearing away at the petals of a closed flower.

The storm bellowed, grabbing Armin and throwing him downward. The sudden change in direction made his stomach lurch, the whiplash nearly knocking him unconscious. Water blasted into him, the cold shocking him lucid. He gasped, struggling for breath as he twisted in the storm’s wild currents. His third eyelid was shut tight, attempting to keep his eyes from being mutilated by the dangerous winds and rain. 

The wind stopped underneath him, then yanked him sideways. He spun helplessly, unable to direct himself. Rain twisted around him, each drop taking turns to hit him, leaving stinging handprints on every exposed part of him. He corkscrewed through the sky, lightning screeching around him, thunder tearing the sky apart. 

Armin struggled against the maelstrom, overwhelmed by the hundreds of currents pressing down on him. He felt too light and too heavy all at once, as easily moved as a leaf, as heavily crushed as the rocks of the mountains. Fear drove him onward in the vain attempt to make his way down. Time had no meaning in this primal place. Directions didn’t exist. All that remained was Armin swallowed in the massive beast that was the storm. He was surrounded only by sky above and sky below, the purple, pulsing flesh of the angry, ancient god.

He didn’t belong here. No one belonged here in this chaos. Every flying creature was just a visitor, the sky granted access only when it felt like it, not the other way around. Armin had violated the most basic of nature’s laws, and now he was being punished for it. 

Another gust knocked him sideways, and he narrowly avoided a bone-white flash of lightning on his right side. The crashing sound of thunder hit him, shuddering his entire being to the core. He could feel himself retreating further inward, instincts overtaking him, pounding beneath his skin like a frightened bird, thousands of feathers flapping in time to his heartbeat, beating his nerves into submission. 

_Get out, get out, get out, get out!_

Armin fought to carve the wind underneath his wings, the storm unrelenting in giving him its power. He yelled, twisting, turning, churning, swirling at the mercy of the winds. There was no pattern here. There was no secret combination to unlock, no puzzle to solve, no logistics Armin could rely on in order to save himself. All he could do was hope that he would make it through. If he focused hard enough, he could stabilize himself in the current that was carrying him, but all too soon another would come along and sweep him away. 

Before long, he was numb from the cold, limbs heavy and exhausted from trying to fight against a force he couldn’t win. How could he survive up here? How could anyone survive in such a treacherous place? 

Armin chalked it up to being lucky.

A massive gust, stronger than any he had experienced, swept him up. Suddenly, he was being carried up, higher, farther, faster than he had ever experienced. He screamed, but air seemed to leave him, the very atmosphere thinning around him as he flew higher, spiraling far beyond than what Armin had deemed safe. He tried to fight against it, but he was so tired. His wings wouldn’t work. His mind was sluggish-- _why bother fighting against the wind’s sweet embrace?_ \--eyes blurred and lids heavy.

Then suddenly, nothing. Armin blinked rapidly, subconsciously locking his wings and soaring on an easy, gentle breeze.

_What?_

Sunlight burned above him, the skies a beautiful, endless sea of blue. Below, undulating, bloated blue and purple waves of clouds swirled beneath him. He could pick out the central draft of the storm, circling lazily below him like a whirlpool. Clouds puffed up from that shaft, like the smoke from old chimneys. Most of the time, however, they would be pulled sideways, feeding themselves back into the storm proper, gathering beneath a cirrus cloud that topped the storm like a crown of thorns.

_It’s beautiful,_ Armin thought, circling above the storm, drinking in sights he was sure no one else had experienced. Breath came in short puffs, his fingers, toes, and feathers tingling in the sharp chill above the storm, his head aching terribly, though Armin found himself unable to care about it. A warmth filled his chest, and he sighed, entranced by the otherworldly beauty of the sky.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?”

Armin flinched, wings snapping close to his body, dropping down several meters in surprise. “Who’s there?” he choked, the cold air thrusting its greedy fingers into Armin’s throat. He blinked, trying to clear out the darkness piling on the edges of his vision, twisting around to survey his domain. Why couldn’t he get a proper breath? 

Wings of black and white trembled on his peripherals. Majestic, ethereal, one pair of the purest white, the other in the deepest black, beating in and out of time of his. 

“We have loved you, always,” Armin’s mother said, kind, sky blue eyes filled with admiration. Armin turned to his other side, his father gliding next to him on regal wings of ebony. He smiled to him, the edges of his eyes wrinkling into the familiar lines that Armin had always loved. 

Armin choked back a sob, raising his hands to his mouth. “Mom, Dad, I--”

“We know, Armin. It’s okay.” Black wings brushed against his, and Armin relaxed for the first time in what he felt like was ages. His parents were okay. They didn’t think of him as a failure. They didn’t care about the wings, how he could never seem to get a handle on his emotions, how he pretended to be okay for everyone else. Here, he was loved. Here, he was safe. He tried to fly closer to them, reaching out to touch a hand, a feather, anything.

His parents soared higher above him, regarding him sadly, always a hair out of reach. Armin cried out, trying to force his body to soar higher. He tried to sculpt the air beneath his wings, but they wouldn’t respond. He shuddered in the sky, losing altitude, unable to catch the wind to keep him aloft. 

He was falling, wings failing, blackness overtaking his vision as he dropped back below the clouds. His vision began to tunnel, breaths coming in increasingly short bursts. All he could see was his parents above him, arms outstretched in an unreturned hug. Armin tried to call out to them, but all that came out was a strangled cough, red spittle dotting the sky in front of him. He could barely hear his mother’s voice that carried on the breeze before the darkness overwhelmed him.

_We have loved you._

_Always._

\---

Armin tumbled through the sky, consciousness slowly trickling back into him. He could barely feel a thing, he was so numb from the cold. Wind cushioned him underneath, slipping around him like sand running through fingers. Where was he? 

He blinked rapidly, dispelling the blackness on the edges of his vision. Clouds flew past them, traveling upwards at an alarming rate. A white-hot fork of lightning flashed in front of him, sparking him to full mental capacity, the thunder booming around him in an endless bellow. Terror gripped him. A nasty current shoved him sideways, and Armin could see the tips of trees coming into view below him, poised to impale him like upturned spears. 

He threw his wings open, a soundless cry erupting from his chest as he prayed that he would be able to slow himself down enough. Feathers crackled and muscles protested, shooting tendrils of pain through him as he tried to widen his wings. Treetops came to meet him, boughs spread menacingly like hundreds of arms ready to suffocate him. The scream finally escaped his lips, his throat raw as he plummeted down through the trees. Each branch took a hold of him, and he flipped head over heels as he fell, sticks and leaves thrashing against his already battered body, leaving more shocks of sharp pain.

Then, with a definite _crack_ of something breaking, Armin hit the ground flat on his back, wind rushing out of him. His head was pounding as he struggled to breathe, each exhalation spraying pink spittle from his mouth. He rolled to his side, gasping in pain as his wings trembled in agony. He stumbled to his hands and knees, swaying as he coughed up more blood. He was so tired. Maybe he could just lay down and rest for a while...

_No!_ Armin grimaced, pulling himself into a sitting position. That’s how people died. They sat down and slept, and then they died. He may not deserve a heroic death, but he definitely didn’t deserve that pathetic of a death. He sucked in air, his chest feeling like it was being constricted, each breath rattling and weak. 

_Check for broken bones,_ Armin remembered from his training. He clumsily brought his hands to his sides, prodding his chest for broken ribs. No new pain greeted him, so he twisted around, checking his wings for damage. He began to move them, then hissed as pain shot through him. The hiss turned into a heaving cough, and Armin fell back down on his hands, clenching grass beneath his fists as he struggled for breath. 

Feeling incredibly dizzy, Armin’s chest heaved as he sat himself back up after his coughing spell. His wings protested, and Armin nearly passed out from the pure agony that coursed through him. _Wings are broken,_ was the only thought he was able to make through it all. _Fell on them wrong, probably._ He sat back, sputtering as another round of coughing overtook him. 

_Home, I have to get home._ Armin blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the darkness that dominated the edges of his vision as he stumbled upright. He swayed dangerously on his feet, throwing a hand sideways to balance himself. He squeezed his eyes shut as he summoned what was left of his stamina, still wheezing for a full breath that didn’t want to come. 

Opening his eyes, he turned to face the hand that was currently steadying him. A stone wall met his eyes. Puzzled, Armin ran his hand up and down it, the stone beneath his hand feeling less gritty than it looked. If Armin wasn’t staring straight at it, he would have said that the stone felt more like wood. 

Armin shook his head, blinking and turning to face the path before him. Neat, orderly rows of cobblestone lined the way, houses lining the sides, each building haphazardly placed next to the others, but still obeying the street pattern of the city. Which district was he in? Armin twisted about, trying to gain his bearings. The houses were too fancy for his district, that much was for sure, but he still couldn’t divine where exactly he was. Panic began to bubble out of his chest. How did he get so lost?

“Armin!” a familiar voice called out.

Armin spun on his heel, then relaxed as he saw his grandfather coming up to greet him. He tried to lift his hand up in a wave, but his body didn’t respond. He felt like he was filled with lead, each limb too heavy to move, each movement like he was slogging through molasses. Above it all, his head was still pounding beneath his skull, like some of the thunder of the storm had decided to keep up residence in there. 

“We have to hurry,” his grandfather said, tugging on his arm and leading him away. “Can you walk?”

Armin tripped forward, his steps as unsure as a newborn fawn’s. “I’ll be f-fine,” he said. Pain rippled up his spine with every staggering step he took as he followed after his grandfather’s figure. Grimacing, he squared his shoulders and ignored the pain, letting the cold numbness take over him. He could deal with it later. He had to get home first, then his parents could patch him up, and he would be completely fine.

“What are you doing out here so late?” his grandfather scolded, eyes crinkling around the edges. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. You know it’s not safe out right now. We need to get back home.” 

“Sorry,” Armin coughed, stopping and leaning against a wall for support. He heaved for breath, each cough bringing more clarity to his eyes, sharpening the streets of Shiganshina. He drew in a ragged breath, then continued onward, pushing through crowds of faceless people to catch up with his grandfather. 

“If they notice you, then you’ll be taken away,” his grandfather said, continuing his conversation as if Armin had never left his side. “I don’t know why you would be so reckless as to be outside with your wings. You know you can’t fly yet; the wings are far too small. Once they grow in, then maybe you can escape with your parents, but right now that’s not an option.” He stopped suddenly, then cursed, ducking into a side alley. 

“H-hey, wait! Wait!” Armin cried out, tangling his feet as he tried to follow. Frantically, he searched over heads to find the familiar straw hat, but he couldn’t see it. Panicked, he twisted on his heel, pinwheeling his arms to balance himself. He spotted two people in military police uniforms, swords aimed at him as they parted the crowd forcefully to get to him.

Armin yelped, tripping forward and letting his only saving instinct take hold; _run._ The streets seemed to shrink, more and more people spilling out of houses and shops and crowding the already narrow streets. He frantically pushed them away, his heart pumping in his ears, each step wavering and unsure. He clipped the side of a house with his shoulder, and suddenly the world was bathed in red as sheer agony erupted from his wing. His lurching gait lost, he tripped, and momentum tossed him to the ground. Dirt and blood filled his mouth, a split second memory of being kicked repeatedly into the ground washing over him. He whimpered, curling up into a ball and covering his head, shaking from the numb chill that overwhelmed his body.

_No!_ Armin struggled against his instincts, bringing himself back up to his feet. He panted, resting against a wall, then continued running from... From what? Where was he going again? Armin stopped, trying to regain his bearings. 

_This street... This street looks familiar,_ he thought, then crossed the street and turned onto the main thoroughfare. His house was only a couple blocks away. He was sure of it. He began to stumble forward, clutching his stomach as another round of coughing overtook him. He fell to his knees, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to shut out the pain. He was a soldier. He should be able to take a little pain. Shouldn’t he?

“Armin!”

Armin’s head shot up, scanning the crowd for the voice. He spotted his parents waving to him, and he pushed himself to his feet, pointedly ignoring the splatter of red at his heels. They turned away from him, walking away with backs turned on their son. “Mom! Dad!” he croaked, lurching forward in an attempt to catch up with them.

They broke into a run.

“Wait!” Armin clumsily weaved through the crowds, eyes trained on his parents running ahead of him. Each step only lengthened the distance between them, each breath snuffing out more and more of Armin’s consciousness. He could see his house in the distance, his parents far ahead of him now, swaying in time with each other, wings of black and white rustling in tandem. Armin willed up some reserve of strength, making it to the door right as they ran in and shut the door in his face.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Armin blubbered, tears streaming down his face as he struggled with the doorknob. His fingers weren’t responding, and only now did Armin notice how cold he was. He shivered, falling to his knees while still grasping to the doorknob like a lifeline. Why couldn’t he get his body to move? 

He quickly surveyed behind him, crying out as he noticed the two policemen slowly walking towards him, swords drawn and faces grim. He turned his attention back to the door, curling up one hand into a fist and pounding on it while he tried to turn the doorknob with his other unsteady hand.

“Please! Lemme in, where did I go wrong, I never meant for this to happen!” Armin’s words started to slur together, a hundred different thoughts trying to burst through his mouth. His words scrambled into a helpless scream, then turned into a crackling cough. He slumped against the doorway, blackness overtaking his vision right as the two policemen stopped next to him, swords trained on his throat. 

\---

Eren’s tears had dried up long ago. 

The storm had just started to die off, the flood of water now turning into a gentle sprinkle of rain. It would have been peaceful, had Armin been with him. Eren squeezed his eyes shut, his face contorting into a pained grimace. The edges of his mouth ached from his tearless crying, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. He hiccuped, pressing his forehead against the cool glass again. Levi would be mad at him for making such a big grease stain--

Levi had killed Armin.

_Fuck Levi,_ Eren thought vehemently, pressing more of his face against the glass just for good measure. He casted swollen eyes back up into the sky, searching for an impossible speck of black and white to cross his vision. 

“Eren,” Mikasa pressed up against his shoulder, startling him away and making him knock his head painfully against the window frame. She dipped her head as Eren glared at her, anger evident in his smoldering eyes. She swallowed down her words, opting instead to lay her head on his shoulder, placing her hand on his. 

Eren balled his hand into a fist underneath Mikasa’s callused fingers. He couldn’t forgive her either; she had let Levi drag him away without even lifting a finger to help. He shrugged his shoulder, bouncing Mikasa’s head off of it. _I don’t want your pity._ The words formed in his mind but they couldn’t leave his tongue.

Mikasa rubbed small circles on the top of his palm, tracing blue veins and drawing around his knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“No,” Eren hiccuped. An empty, sharp pain surged through him, starting at the cavity in his chest and spiraling out to his extremities. “Don’t say that,” he hissed to Mikasa. “If you say you’re sorry, then you’ve given up. We can’t give up on Armin. We’re all he has left.” He blinked hard, a useless attempt to drive out the dry irritation he felt in his eyes.

Mikasa glanced away, lips pursed together. She gave him a single nod, then began to play with the fringes of her scarf, letting her body lean onto Eren’s. 

Hesitantly, Eren leaned his head onto Mikasa’s--when had she put her head back on his shoulders?--new tears finally forming and staining the ground beneath him. Mikasa turned her body towards him, wrapping her arms around him in a sterile hug. Eren sniffed, burying his face in Mikasa’s shoulder, cinching her closer to him. It wasn’t the hug he wanted--Mikasa was too sharp, too hardened to melt into the curves he needed to hold--but for now, it was enough. She silently smoothed down his hair, the simple repetition slowing Eren’s hurried sobs to calmer breaths.

“Armin is strong,” Eren whispered into Mikasa’s shoulder. “Armin is strong and he’ll make it back home.”

Mikasa stiffened. “O-of course, Eren.” She pulled back, holding Eren’s shoulders in her hands. “You should get something to eat or drink. Please.”

Eren nodded, casting his eyes back down to the tear-stained ground beneath him. Mikasa gently brought him to his feet, wrapping her arm around his waist. Eren shuffled along to her steps, keeping his eyes to the ground. Distant thunder rumbled outside, the sound like a judge’s gavel to Eren’s ears. _What if he doesn’t make it back? What if he’s really..._

A pair of spotless boots interrupted his vision. Eren slowly looked up, anger boiling out of his chest as he took in the perfectly pressed clothes, the cravat tied around the neck, stormy grey eyes roiling like the storm outside.

“Levi,” Eren seethed. He straightened up, forcefully shrugging Mikasa off of him, sizing up Levi like a territorial predator. He balled his hands into fists, nails creating sharp, crescent shaped imprints in his palms.

“Eren,” Levi said, his voice close to cracking. “Eren, let me explain. Please.”

“No!” Before he knew what he was doing, Eren grabbed Levi by the collar, ramming him against the wall. “There’s nothing left to explain! You killed him! You _killed_ Armin!”

Levi flinched. “Eren, I’m sorry.”

_”Sorry?_ You’re _sorry?”_ Eren’s voice was rising in volume. He bellowed, ramming Levi into the wall again. “Did you think a simple _sorry_ would fix everything? _Sorry_ won’t bring Armin back! Did you seriously think a simple apology would fix everything?”

“Eren-”

“No! Fuck you! Just because you think lives are worthless and you can order anyone to die at anytime you like doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt for us who haven’t lost our humanity yet! I can’t believe I looked up to you! I can’t _fucking_ believe I thought you could understand me! You-you heartless bastard! I trusted you. _He_ trusted you! And where did that get us? Dead! Fucking dead! I can’t believe--”

“Eren!” Mikasa roughly grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away from Levi. Eren paused, catching his breath and finally noticing Levi in front of him. He was slumped against the wall, hanging his head against the noose of Eren’s words, his normally hard eyes unfocused and unseeing. Each accusation had brought only more weight down upon him, silently adding to his already crushing load.

Eren took a step back, bringing his hands to his mouth. “Oh god, oh my god. Levi, I’m so sorry.”

Levi didn’t meet his eyes.

The pressure on Eren's shoulder lessened, Mikasa relaxing her grip as the anger left Eren's body. Eren took another step back, hot tears stinging at the edges of his eyes, drawing in his shoulders, shrinking into himself as he struggled to find words. “Corporal, I-I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. You-you didn’t mean to-”

“I did this.” Levi’s words were nearly inaudible, but they dominated the floor nonetheless. Like the shattering of glass in a silent room, everything seemed to stop and draw attention to those three words. 

Eren stared at him, stunned. “Corporal...”

Levi’s head jerked up, finally meeting Eren’s eyes. “I did this,” he repeated, louder this time. His mask broke, if only for a small moment, his mouth cracking into a silent cry, the edges of his eyes creasing together, his jaw slackening and throat opening as if he was going to scream. Instead, he screwed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath and composing himself. 

Eren and Mikasa stood in silence, gravitating towards each other and seeking out the other’s comfort. Hands entwined, Eren ventured a step towards Levi.

Levi cringed. “Eren, I’m sorry.” Another deep breath. “I underestimated the storm. I had thought he would have been safe, that taking one more go would have strengthened him and made him be able to rally against his fears easier. I never meant for this to happen. It was supposed to be controlled. It was supposed to be _safe._ Had I known that this would happen, I would have listened to him. I _should_ have listened to him.” He slumped back against the wall. “I killed Armin.”

The name hung in the air, covering the room like a burial shroud. The sky seemed to grow a shade darker, the sudden silence overwhelming. Eren pursed his lips, studying the ground beneath him, Mikasa’s hand a warm weight in his. He took in a breath, opening his mouth and glancing back up at the corporal, then stopped himself, exhaling instead and leaning on Mikasa for support. He chanced a look at her.

Mikasa’s eyes were downcast, silent tears slowly making tracks down her face. Her shoulders were tense, as if her sadness was something that could beat her to the ground. In a way, Eren figured, it could, but Mikasa would never let herself dwell on it for too long. Already she was wiping the tears off her face with her free hand, constructing a careful mask as she looked up, setting her shoulders and pursing her lips against sobs that wanted to come out. 

Eren bit his lip, squeezing her hand once as she met his eyes. She faltered, and for a moment Eren could see how bad this was tearing her up inside. _Me too,_ he wanted to say, but this silence was not meant to be broken. Instead, he leaned into her, hoping that the simple gesture could relay what he wanted to say. Hesitantly, Mikasa wrapped her arm around him, releasing her other hand and hugging him close. She buried her face into his shoulder, her frame shuddering as a broken sob escaped her lips.

Eren held her close, running a hand through her hair as he let the tears fall from his own face. _This is the only family I have left,_ he thought, squeezing his eyes shut against the sobering thought. _I had never thought that Armin..._ A whimper sounded in the back of his throat, and he buried his face in Mikasa’s hair. 

_Don’t think about it. Armin is strong and he’ll make it back._

Wind shuddered against the window, rain pattering against the glass like a hundred different heartbeats. Thunder rumbled in the distance, taking the last bulk of the storm with it. Eren tried his best to shut out the storm, but all he could think of was Armin; lost in the middle of unfamiliar territory, broken and bleeding from the storm, cold, alone. 

Dead.

_No._ Eren set his jaw, lifting his head from Mikasa’s hair, glaring back at the window. He would stare the storm in the face. He would stare back and not let it take away his determination too. Eren hissed out a breath, warm and wet through Mikasa’s hair. He _would_ fight back, fight for Armin’s sake. 

“We can wait for a day or two,” Levi said, breaking Eren’s trance. “But with-with Armin gone this mission here is no longer operable. It’s no use staying if he doesn’t make it back.” Levi clenched his jaw, refusing to meet Eren’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Corporal, I-”

A knock at the door interrupted Eren. He peeled back from Mikasa, sharing a confused glance, then looked at Levi. “You heard that?”

Levi nodded, his eyebrows drawn together, lips drawn to a thin line. 

Eren lurched towards the door, each step stretching into an eternity. He grasped the doorknob, and it wobbled beneath his fingers. He bit his lip, stuffing down his hopes, and threw it open.

“Armin?” he gasped, hands white-knuckled on the doorknob. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

Armin looked more like he had walked out of a muted painting; pallid, ashy skin against black dilated pupils. Ghastly blue fingers and lips alongside frosted blond-white hair. Ice had formed on the tips of his wings, crackling with every wavering step he took. The only color was a shock of bloody pink froth sputtering out of dying blue lips with every wheezing cough. He stumbled into Eren’s arms, barely holding himself up as his legs gave out, burying his face into Eren’s shoulder.

“I’m here. Mother, I’m here,” Armin whispered, his voice gravelly and weak.

Eren stood in shock, holding Armin’s body close to his, unable to comprehend Armin’s sickly form in his arms. He ran his fingers through Armin’s hair, cradling his head to his body. He was so cold, Eren figured he had held corpses warmer than he. His knees shuddered, and he slipped to the ground, still clutching Armin in shaky arms. Freezing rain water dripped off of Armin onto Eren’s skin, shocking him to action.

“Corporal!” Eren twisted his head to look behind him. Levi and Mikasa mirrored shocked stares and slacked jaws. Levi shuddered to life first, blinking hard and swallowing. His face was terribly pale.

“Mikasa, go get Hanji. She’s in the study. Tell her it’s important.” Mikasa nodded, swiftly departing the room. Levi nodded in Eren’s direction. “Eren, bring Armin to the fireplace, then remove his clothing. He’ll die of hypothermia in those wet rags. His clean clothes are in the right side of the closet, correct?”

“Y-yes sir!” Eren shifted his grip, preparing to carry Armin to the fireplace as Levi ran to Armin’s room. His hand brushed against Armin’s wing. Armin cried out, slipping out of Eren’s arms and slumping to the ground, his cry turning into a gurgling cough. Eren’s hands came back red, some small downy feathers sticking to his bloody fingers. Wide-eyed, he looked at his hands, then to Armin’s wings, then back again. They seemed off, bent in an unnatural position. Steam was lazily drifting off of them, a futile attempt to heal Armin’s battered body. 

_Broken. His wings are broken,_ Eren realized. Tears stung the edges of his eyes as he carefully gathered Armin back up, pointedly ignoring the splatter of red Armin had coughed up onto the ground. _Armin is strong and he’ll make it through this. Armin is strong and he’ll make it through this. Armin is strong and he’ll--_

Eren grit his teeth, gingerly hoisting Armin onto his back and lumbering to the fireplace. Armin hiccuped behind him, his breathing shallow and rattly, as if he couldn’t take a proper breath. “We’re going to make it through this,” Eren said quietly as he set Armin back down on the ground, propping him up to a sitting position. “You’re going to be okay, Armin. We’ll make it through this together.” He swallowed hard as he frantically started unbuttoning Armin’s shirt, his hands unsteady and unsure. 

Armin blinked, his third eyelid flickering across his eyes. He wheezed something that Eren didn’t catch, then his eyes rolled back, and he went limp in Eren’s arms. Eren choked back a sob, blinking hard at the tears that blurred his vision as he continued to fumble with Armin’s buttons. 

“Here, let me do this,” Hanji appeared next to him, her face grim as she efficiently undid the last of Armin’s buttons, then threaded his limp arms out of his soaking sleeves. “Can you get his wings out of this?” she asked Eren as she placed her fingers to Armin’s neck, checking his pulse. “Mikasa, clean rags please.”

Eren nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The shirt hung on his wings, turning pink as it soaked up blood oozing from Armin’s wings. Eren bit his lip, then gingerly picked up his wing by the arm, rotating it back so the shirt would slip off. Armin’s eyes flew open, and he whimpered pathetically at Eren’s touch. Eren did his best to shut out Armin’s cries of pain as he shimmied the shirt off of his wings.

“You’re going to be okay, Armin,” Eren heard Hanji saying softly to him as she wiped off water and blood from his chin. “Stay with us. Stay with us, please.”

“How is he looking?” Levi asked as he walked in with fresh clothing and blankets piled in his arms. He set them beside where Hanji was working, then got to work on lighting a fire.

“Bad,” she replied simply. “Eren, hold him up.”

Eren complied, wrapping his arms underneath Armin’s armpits and hoisting him up. Armin’s skin felt waxy, and Eren found himself matching Armin’s hurried breaths. He shivered, Armin’s body a cold weight in his arms.

“He’s got hypothermia for sure,” Hanji said as she continued to undress Armin. “Bad frostnip, which could turn into frostbite if we don’t get him warmed up soon. I’m not sure what the cough is, and he’s seeing _something,_ so he’s obviously not in the right frame of mind. Being left out in a storm doesn’t usually make you delusional, so I’m not sure how to fix this. His wings are broken, though it looks like his body is already trying to heal that as fast as it can. After you get that fire lit, can you put them into a tourniquet?”

“Of course,” Levi said, his expression grim. The fire finally sparked to life, gradually building to a proper flame.

“He’s exhausted, poor thing,” Hanji simpered. “Mikasa, could you dry him off and get him into some fresh clothing while we set his wings? Eren, you’re doing great. Keep doing what you’re doing.” Hanji hoisted Levi to his feet, then they got to work on binding Armin’s wings.

The room was deathly quiet as the two worked in tandem. Eren bit his lip, averting his eyes and burying his face in Armin’s shoulder instead. He couldn’t bring himself to watch. Armin’s wings looked so sickly and weak, the feathers matted with blood and dirt. The wings were supposed to be his freedom. They were supposed to be healthy and hale, a symbol of humanity’s hope, not withered and broken. 

Eren winced as he heard the sound of bone snapping into place, Armin flinching beneath his touch. He chanced a look, barely raising his eyes off of Armin’s shoulder. White linen was beginning to stain red, the contrast especially stark on the black wing. The tourniquet was hazardous at best, but, Eren figured, they had never had to bind a wing before. It was the best they could do, considering the circumstances. He stared at the binding, his mind wandering. What if his wings didn’t heal? What if Armin wasn’t ever able to fly again, what if--

“Eren, you can set him down now,” Hanji said quietly, wiping her brow. 

Eren started, belatedly realizing that Armin was dressed and dry for the most part--he was still shirtless and water still dripped from his hair. Eren swallowed hard, cringing as he slowly brought Armin back down to the ground, Hanji and Mikasa carefully spreading his wings so they could dry.

“Eren, you’re freakishly hot all the time, correct?” Levi called from the kitchen.

“Um, I guess, sir,” Eren said.

“Keep Armin close to you. Sharing body heat will help warm him back up,” Levi said, turning his attention back to the bloody rags he was cleaning. “You and Mikasa can work in shifts, taking care of him while the other one sleeps. Hanji and I will be close by, and we’ll monitor his vitals periodically.”

Eren nodded, gathering up Armin into his lap, carefully threading his arms around him. Armin shivered, coughing weakly. “You’re going to be okay,” Eren whispered in his ear. “We’ll make it through this and we’re going to be okay. Don’t worry. We’ll make it through this.”

Mikasa sat down next to him, nervously playing with the fringes of her scarf. She leaned her head onto Armin’s shoulder, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. Her breath hitched, a small whimper escaping the back of her throat. She took one of Armin’s hands into hers, gently squeezing his hand. “His hands are so cold,” she said softly.

Eren bowed his head, clutching Armin closer to him. “I know,” he said. He didn’t want to acknowledge the blue fingers, the waxy complexion. Armin was supposed to be full of life, a bright ray of light against the gloomy skies of life, not this walking corpse, barely teetering on the edge of life and death. “But he’s here now, and he’ll get better.”

Mikasa paused, then nodded. “Yes. He will.” She sighed deeply, huddling closer and grabbing a blanket to throw over the three of them. 

“Wait a minute,” Hanji said as she ran back into the main room, holding one of Armin’s shirts and a knife. “Where’s his old--ah.” She picked up the sodden shirt, holding it out and studying the two cuts on the back. A couple of knife cuts later, she held a replacement shirt. Levi came back over to them, shaking out his hands to dry them. Hanji wordlessly handed him the shirt, then worked on moving Armin’s wings to a position where the shirt could be slipped on. Eren was unceremoniously moved, demoted to sitting next to Mikasa as the two maneuvered the shirt around his wings.

Levi worked silently, gently brushing back feathers and shaking off excess water when he could. He was carefully composed, eyes focused only on the task at hand, mouth pressed into a careful line, shoulders set and eyebrows furrowed. His jaw clenched as he came up past the binding, frowning at the blood and steam still seeping into the linen. Hanji gathered up the slack, threading Armin’s arms into the sleeves and doing up the buttons. She waved Eren and Mikasa back over, picking up a heavy woolen blanket to put on the three of them.

Levi knelt behind Armin still, hands on his knees. “I’m sorry,” Eren heard him whisper. “I’m sorry I did this to you. You better make it through this, you little shit. I’m counting on you and those stupid wings of yours.” Running his hands through Armin’s feathers one last time, he brought himself back up, and he drifted back towards Hanji, head bowed and expression penitent. He quickly covered it up, replacing the expression with his carefully constructed mask.

“If you two need anything, yell for us or whatever,” Levi said, turning his back on the three and heading towards the study. “Keep him warm; it wouldn’t do good for him to die after making it back from that hell outside. Get him water when he wakes up.”

The two gave their affirmations, and Eren gathered Armin back up into his lap, taking care to not jostle his wings. Mikasa took her place as sentinel next to him, huddling up to her two charges. Hesitantly, she unwrapped the scarf from around her neck, then delicately wrapped it around Armin’s instead. She shivered as warm air from the fire touched her bare neck, unused to the sensation. Sighing, she lay her head on Armin’s shoulder, grasping his hand in hers.

Hanji threw the heavy blanket over the three of them, wrapping it snugly so heat wouldn’t be able to escape. “He should be able to recover,” she said. “If he makes it through tonight then he’ll be okay.” She gave them a motherly grin, then followed Levi into the study.

“Armin is strong and will make it through this,” Eren breathed as he rested his head against Armin’s free shoulder, preparing to sit vigil for the rest of the evening. 

\---

“Eren? Eren!”

Eren jolted awake, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Mikasa nudged his shoulder again, her eyebrows knit together. Eren carefully brought a hand up to his face, taking care to not bump Armin. He dug the heel of his palm into his eyes in a vain attempt to rub out the drowsiness in them.

“Eren, you should go rest,” Mikasa said, concern in her voice. “You keep dozing off.”

“I’m fine,” Eren yawned. He adjusted the blanket around his and Armin’s shoulders, leaning forward to get a look at Armin’s face. Color had returned to his lips and cheeks, and his breathing had finally slowed to a normal rhythm, though weak coughs would still rattle through him. Eren bit his lip, bringing Armin closer to him on his lap.

Mikasa knelt down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Eren, we can switch spots, you know. You need sleep. He’ll be okay if you go rest for a bit.”

Eren shook his head. “No,” he said, wincing at how petulant his voice sounded. “I want to be there when he wakes up. He should be waking up any moment now.” He lowered his head onto Armin’s shoulder. “At least, that’s what Hanji said not too long ago.”

Mikasa gave him a suffering look. Eren balked, avoiding her gaze.

“Fine. If he doesn’t wake up in five minutes, then we’ll switch. Happy?” he grumbled.

Mikasa nodded, settling down next to him. She brushed a hand through Armin’s secondaries, frowning when her hand came back with sticky, crusting blood and dirt. She rose, carefully stepping around Armin’s outstretched wing on the ground.

Eren pursed his lips, closing his eyes and burrowing his face into Mikasa’s scarf. “You’re going to make it through this, Armin. Please, wake up soon.” He gently squeezed Armin’s midsection, letting his body relax onto Armin’s back, slotting between his wings. On any other night, Eren might have complained about how ticklish the feathers were against his sides, but tonight they were a welcome presence, a reminder that Armin was _here._ Eren leaned back, snaking an arm back to his side, his other still supporting Armin. 

Against his better judgement, Eren brought his free hand up to Armin’s back, and began to massage the area where his wings melded to his back, taking care to not jostle the limb and upset the healing process. He marveled at the feeling of smooth skin turning to sprouting down beneath his fingertips, then to a mass of soft, rustling feathers covering the powerful muscles beneath. He dug his fingers between Armin’s quills, gently scratching at the base of his wing. Eren felt his shoulders drop; petting through Armin’s feathers was more relaxing than he cared to admit, even if dried blood was accumulating beneath his fingernails. He sighed, smoothing down the feathers and returning his arm back around Armin’s waist.

Mikasa returned to his side, a cloth and a bowl of water in her hands. Her jaw clenched as she gingerly spread a handful of Armin’s feathers apart, wetting the rag and gently washing down each quill. Eren watched with half-lidded eyes, the repetitive movement mesmerizing and making him start to nod off again. He lay his head down on the back of Armin’s neck, Mikasa’s scarf providing appreciated padding, his eyes following Mikasa’s hands as she singled out a feather, meticulously cleaned it, then shook off the excess water and repeated the motion on the next. She frowned as she moved closer to the bound part of his wing, passing over the area for fear of ruining the healing process.

“Hey, Mikasa,” Eren said.

Mikasa turned to face him, threading her fingers around a quill and sliding her fingers down the shaft, water droplets falling to the floor. “Yes, Eren?”

“What do you think everyone else is doing right now?” 

“If they’re smart, sleeping, probably,” Mikasa replied, grimacing as her rag stained pink, shifting feathers to clean the arm of the wing as close to the binding as she dared. “Like you should be.”

Eren stuck out his tongue at her. “It’s not that late. Everyone’s probably still trying to wind down, I bet.”

“I didn’t say they were smart. They’re probably telling stories or just hanging around each other for company. That storm must have rattled them too; we usually don’t get ones that are so bad.”

“Sasha and Connie probably have some crazy story to tell from their villages, no doubt with extra additions for dramatic effect.” Eren shifted to a more comfortable position. “Jean’s probably telling them to shove off, because he needs his beauty sleep.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it.”

Eren closed his eyes, the cramped room they called home appearing beneath his eyelids. “Reiner might be telling a ghost story, and Ymir’s going to make fun of it the whole time, holding onto Krista, who’s probably falling asleep in her arms. Bertholdt’s either already asleep or just about to, and...” Eren paused, a sigh escaping from his lips. “And this would be the part where someone would ask Armin to tell a story from one of his books, so everyone would wind down enough to fall asleep.”

Mikasa stopped cleaning, her arms falling to her sides. She folded her hands into her lap, the rag forgotten at her side.

Eren sat back, tracing down Armin’s spine with his eyes. “Mikasa, what are we going to do when Armin’s gone on his mission? What do we tell everyone? It’s not like we can just give away Armin’s secret.”

“Corporal Levi or Hanji will take care of that,” Mikasa said, turning to face Eren. “We have to trust in their judgement.”

“Even after what Corporal did to Armin?” The words left Eren’s mouth before he could think.

“Eren,” Mikasa warned. “He knows he messed up. It won’t happen again.” She picked up the rag and resumed washing Armin’s feathers. 

“But what if something like this happens when Armin’s out there? He won’t have anyone to take care of him. What if he gets injured, or another storm happens and he gets caught in it, or--”

“Armin will know what to do,” Mikasa interrupted. “You have to trust that he’ll be safe, too. Armin is smart and I’m sure he can figure out when he shouldn’t be flying. You can’t protect him all the time, Eren.”

Eren grimaced, pulling Armin closer to him. “I can sure as hell try,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Eren said hurriedly. He swallowed hard, burying his face in Armin’s hair for a few moments, his mind wandering. _What would happen if everyone else found out about Armin’s wings?_ he thought, closing his eyes. _Would he get shunned again, and have to prove himself to them all over again?_ He frowned. _No, I wouldn’t let that happen. They’d have to accept it and be fine with it, or else I’ll--_

Armin shuddered beneath him. 

Eren’s head popped back up, wide-eyed. “Armin?”

Armin’s wings trembled, making Mikasa drop her rag in surprise. Eren shared a glance with her, then leaned over to look at Armin’s face. Armin’s breaths came in short, hurried bursts, like he had been running a long distance. His eyelids fluttered, as if keeping his eyes open was a massive battle. He clumsily brought his hands up to the edges of the blanket, fumbling with it and trying to shrug it off of his shoulders.

“Armin, don’t,” Eren said quietly, placing his hands on Armin’s.

“ ‘S hot,” Armin slurred, struggling weakly against Eren’s grip. 

“You’re still cold, please don’t take it off. It’ll only be for the rest of the night, okay?” Eren said softly. He squeezed Armin’s hands once, then wrapped his arms around Armin’s midsection again. 

Armin buckled forward, a round of coughing overtaking him. Eren winced, screwing his eyes shut as Armin’s cough turned to a crackly wheeze. Mikasa hurried to his side, a hand clapped down on his shoulder, the other holding a glass of water. She pressed the glass to his lips after he finished his coughing spell, holding the back of his head and slowly tilting the glass so he could drink. Water dribbled down Armin’s chin as he drank what he could. Each swallow sounded forced and painful, Armin heaving for breath between gulps.

Mikasa shared a worried glance with Eren, biting her lip. Eren swallowed hard, forcing himself to not dwell on the _what ifs_ currently crowding his mind. He broke his gaze from Mikasa, adjusting Armin on his lap so he could take a look at his face.

“Hey, you doing okay, Armin?” Eren asked quietly, rubbing his back between the wings.

Armin blinked slowly, his third eyelid staying shut for what Eren considered too long to be normal. Armin’s lips moved soundlessly as he began to raise his head, the movement sluggish and clumsy. He attempted to fold his wings, the unwieldy limbs flopping uselessly to the ground, shivering and jerking occasionally. Armin hissed a breath, screwing his eyes shut as he tried to fold them again.

“Armin, stop. They’re broken, they need time to heal,” Mikasa said softly, her carefully constructed tone threatening to snap. She shared another glance with Eren. “I’ll go get Hanji. Make sure he doesn’t... make sure he stays put.” She stepped around Armin’s wings, then ran off to the study.

Eren belatedly nodded, then bit his lip, glancing back at Armin’s pallid face. “Hey, do you think you can sit up on your own?” Eren murmured, running his hand up and down Armin’s back again. 

Armin blinked slowly, as if puzzling over Eren’s words before finally nodding. Eren helped Armin off his lap, noting every single shiver as Armin scooted to Eren’s side. Eren draped an arm over Armin’s shoulders, shifting his weight so Armin could lean his head on his shoulder.

“You’re going to be okay,” Eren whispered, rubbing Armin’s shoulder and turning his gaze to the dying fire. The flames were faltering, sputtering out the occasional grumpy crackle and spitting orange sparks. Eren became painfully aware of how the fire’s snapping breaths seemed to match Armin’s, punctuated by weak, raspy coughs and angry, flickering sparks.

Laying his head down on Armin’s, Eren closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but Armin’s breaths. Orange and black shapes flitted behind his eyelids, the musky scent of burning wood filling his nose, along with the undertone of sharp, rain-washed earth. Hair tickled his chin, feathers brushing against the back of his hand, twin feelings of something too soft and too unnatural sparking an instinctive reaction to flinch away from Armin.

Eren resisted, screwing his eyes shut harder. He extended his consciousness, trying to plug the thoughts streaming into his head and focus only on the world around him; the sturdy floor beneath him, Armin’s body next to him, the firelight behind his eyes and their crackling breaths in his ears. The window squeaked in its frame from a mild breeze, but as Eren listened he realized the rain had finally stopped, the absence of its pattering a strange silence. He fancied that outside the warm cabin the clouds had parted away, leaving only a deep, fathomless black sky with silver moonlight chasing away the last of the frigid clouds. 

Sighing, Eren opened his eyes, glancing back at Armin. He was staring intensely into the fire with unfocused eyes, as if he was trying to glean some sort of fantastical information from the wavering light. Shadows danced around him, making his normally round face sharp and angular, cutting off the last vestiges of adolescence and setting his features forward far too many years. Armin jerked his head away from the flames, blinking slowly and staring off into the hallway, his third eyelid shut tight.

Hanji stepped into the room, flanked by Mikasa and Levi. She flinched involuntarily as Armin stared blankly at her, the firelight reflecting off of his eyelid like that of a dead man’s. “How’s he doing?” she asked Eren as she tossed another log into the fire, sparks writhing up into the air.

Eren swallowed, casting his gaze to the floor. “He’s not looking quite so bad, and his breathing has slowed but... I don’t think he’s all there, Hanji.”

Hanji hummed a reply, kneeling down in front of Armin, regarding him warily. He vacantly stared past her, his eyes a ghostly white. She snapped in front of his face, startling him and causing the membrane covering his eyes to finally roll back.

“Follow my finger without moving your head,” Hanji said. 

Armin gave her a weak nod. Dilated pupils locked onto her finger, following left, then right, up, down, into a quick circle and a square. Hanji brought her finger down, Armin bowing his head.

“His vision seems to be fine,” she said, still facing Armin. “Your vision isn’t blurry?”

Armin shook his head, a deep-set cough rattling him. Eren cringed, tightening his grip on Armin’s shoulder.

Hanji pursed her lips, standing up and stepping back to check his bandages. Levi took her place. He waited quietly as Armin heaved for breath, motioning for Mikasa to get him another glass of water. She hurried back, pressing the glass to his lips. Armin shook the blanket off of him, shaky hands coming up to hold the glass around Mikasa’s fingers. He drank slowly, grimacing with each swallow, gasping after he finished drinking.

Levi clapped a hand down on Armin’s shoulder, staring intensely at him with guarded eyes. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice a careful monotone.

“Arlert, Armin.” Armin’s voice was a little more than a gravelly whisper.

Levi nodded. “Good. Where did you used to live?”

Armin’s brow furrowed. “Shiganshina. I lived in Shiganshina.”

“What’s your division?”

“The Survey Corps?”

Levi’s grip tightened. “Yes. Close enough. What’s seventeen plus eighty-seven?”

Armin shifted, puzzling over the question for a hair longer than he usually would. “One-hundred four?” he answered hesitantly.

Levi nodded, removing his hand from Armin’s shoulder. “Good. He seems to be fine,” he said over Armin’s shoulder. Hanji dipped her head in acknowledgement, her expression grim as she replaced the bloody binding around Armin’s wing.

“His wings look like they’re healing correctly,” she said as she carefully re-dressed the wing. “Luckily for us, his accelerated healing has already healed the worst of the fracture I think, and the swelling has gone down. These bandages shouldn’t get as messy as the first ones.”

Levi grunted. “Good. He’s out of the worst of it then.” He began to rise, but was stopped by an arm shot out from underneath the blanket, grasping his wrist. 

“Corporal,” Armin choked out. 

Levi knelt back down, locking eyes with Armin. He noticed a surprising lucidity in his eyes, a twinkling blue fire trying to break free of the smothering sky. “What is it, Armin?”

Armin paused, his grip loosening as he struggled to find words to string into a proper sentence. He flinched as Hanji accidentally knocked his wing as she finished up the binding. He opened and closed his mouth, furrowing his brow, firelight dancing in his eyes as he finally decided on his words.

“Corporal, I’m-I’m sorry,” Armin said, letting go of Levi’s wrist, slightly curling his wings around him. He grimaced, a shock of pain shooting up his wings. He straightened up, folding his hands into his lap, looking up at Levi expectantly.

Levi stiffened, pursing his lips. “Sorry for what?”

“I should have been...stronger,” Armin said, bowing his head and studying the contrasting lines on the blanket. “I should have been able to make it down before the storm hit. I just wasn’t strong enough to fight back. And now we’ll be wasting time again, waiting for me to recover.”

“Armin,” Levi said, his voice wavering slightly. “Armin, no. It’s my fault. I should have listened to you. You tried to warn me, and I didn’t listen. I’m supposed to be in charge of you. I’m supposed to be protecting--” Levi stopped abruptly, casting his eyes down and swallowing. “Just, don’t blame yourself for this. I’m the one that’s responsible, not you.”

Armin leaned his head back on Eren’s shoulder, closing his eyes. “Okay,” he finally whispered, his eyebrows scrunching together as if he was being forced to give away his last possession. He let himself relax into Eren’s touch, too tired to argue back. Grimacing, he shifted his weight, Mikasa’s scarf around his neck finally generating a scratchy sensation against his skin.

Levi sighed heavily, standing back up and pointedly looking away from Armin. He didn’t want to acknowledge the utter mess he had made, the consequence of yet another lie he had told himself. But, it was impossible to not dwell on the mistake he had made when its eyes were boring into the back of his head. Levi’s skin crawled, as it always did when he didn’t have something sturdy behind his back when someone was out of his range of vision. His hand itched to be holding a sword, a dagger, anything he could use to fight back against...

“Corporal?” Eren’s voice broke his trance. 

“What?” Levi said harshly, turning on his heel to face him. He could feel himself retreating back into his lie, the lie of a man that had everything held together on cables of steel, not these tenuous silk strings that threatened to snap at any given moment.

Eren flinched, eyes darting to the ground. “Are we going to have to stay here longer? With Armin’s recovery time and him losing days to fly and all?”

Levi ran his eyes up and down Armin’s frame. He still looked terribly pale, his eyes growing distant again, as if his consciousness was slipping between his fingers like water. His wings looked sickly and weak, like how they had looked when Levi had first happened upon Armin. Levi clenched his jaw, unable to let himself look at Armin any longer.

“We’ll see, Eren,” Levi said. “Move him to the couch; he’ll sleep better that way.” He turned away, stepping towards the embracing darkness of the hallway, Hanji falling into step behind him. 

“Yes, sir!” Eren said to his retreating figure. He bit his lip, rubbing Armin’s shoulder and nudging him gently. “Hey, we’re going to move you to the couch. Do you think you can stand?”

Armin sluggishly raised his head, staring off into the firelight. “I think so,” he said after a moment, slowly gathering himself up. Mikasa was by him in an instant, offering a hand to help him up. He gratefully took it, Eren wrapping an arm around his waist, the two helping him stand until Armin could find his weight beneath his feet. They ambled over to the couch, Armin swaying with each step, leaning heavily against the two for support. 

Armin wearily settled on the couch, his wings shivering and jerking as he awkwardly spread them out so they could continue healing. He became aware of the steam languidly curling into the air, the tendrils swirling themselves out of existence within a few centimeters above his wing. The steam leeched off his body heat, the cold settling back into his wings now that he was away from the fire. A shudder ran through him, and Armin scowled, adjusting himself so his wings caught more of the the dry heat from the fire.

Eren perched next to him, teetering on the edge of the couch like he would take flight if Armin so much as flinched. Mikasa hovered over him like a worried mother, shoulders set and lips drawn to a thin, apprehensive line. Armin’s eyelids felt heavy, the room starting to tilt and smear into indistinct shapes. His head found Eren’s shoulder, and as soon as he closed his eyes, sleep snuffed out his consciousness.

Eren glanced down at Armin, pressing a hand up to his chest as Armin slipped off his shoulder. Eren gathered him up, then lay down on the couch, adjusting so Armin could sleep on his chest. He brushed back a lock of golden hair, smiling gently as he felt Armin’s breaths against his skin. He could feel his own eyes growing heavy, sleep waiting in the back wings of his mind.

“Don’t worry, Armin. I’m going to protect you better,” Eren murmured, brushing his fingers through Armin’s hair. He rested his hand on the back or Armin’s head, wrapping his other arm around the small of Armin’s back.

Mikasa knelt down next to them, gently touching Armin’s forehead, rubbing her thumb in circles above his brow. She shared a look with Eren, mirroring droopy eyelids and yawning mouths. Eren nodded back at her, carefully shifting his weight and closing his eyes.

Mikasa stood back up, letting her posture crack into bent lines and broken edges. Wearily, she shuffled toward her room, looking back at the two boys sleeping on the couch. Her family. Her self-made charges. She put a hand to her brow, pinching the bridge of her nose. What would happen if she could no longer keep them safe, if she couldn’t protect them like how she had failed to protect Eren, in that first battle that was so close, yet so long ago?

_Don’t dwell on it,_ she reminded herself. _We’re here, now, and that’s what matters._ She turned away, opening the door to her room.

They had each other, and that would have to be enough, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering what exactly happened to Armin, look up high altitude pulmonary edema and high altitude cerebral edema. If you're weak-stomached like me, I'd recommend against looking up pictures!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rise from the dead.
> 
> After a year and a half of lots of ~fun~ things in my life, everything has been sorted out and I can actually write things again yay! I could go on, but I think you'd rather want to read the chapter. Thank you for hanging in there after such a long hiatus! I hope we won't have another long one like that, but I don't want to promise anything.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ink bled in undulating strokes from the tip of Armin’s pen. Thick, blotted lines, denoting the sea of clouds beneath him. A light touch against the textured parchment, a vain attempt to brush out the thinner lines of cirrus clouds receding towards the horizon, as if the sun was pulling them in. 

Armin’s hand jerked involuntarily, his pen scraping sideways across the page, ink scattering across in stuttering waves. He furrowed his brow, clenching the board and paper in his hand. How would he fix this mistake? He brought the hand holding the pen up to his chin, absentmindedly chewing on the back of it.

Hesitantly, he brought his hand back down, carefully inking out new lines. Another mark mirroring the accidental line. Small, circling motions, following each other in oblong, languid movements. More light touchings against the paper, hints of puffs of clouds swirling their way out of the main shaft of the storm. Simple strokes crossing over each other in patterns, creating the illusion of depth. Bright bleeding to dark, drawing the eye to the upper center of the page, where the sun waited to devour in perfect whiteness.

Armin sat back, going over the drawing with a critical eye before spraying it down with lacquer. He shook the page so it could dry, setting it down on the table in front of him. Pages of maps crowded the table, some made by his own hand, some not. In a corner lay other drawings such as the one he had just completed, but none of them were quite as _complete_ as the last drawing was.

Still, Armin was unable to capture the raw, breathless beauty he had seen above the clouds. The scene haunted him, searing behind his eyelids whenever he drifted off to sleep at night, tucked into the back corner of his mind whenever he stared out the window at the clouds. It had only been three days since the utter disaster that was the storm, and ever since Armin could only think about being above the clouds, nothing but him and the sky breaking the horizon. His hands itched to recreate the scene, to attempt to capture what a truly ethereal experience it had been. Perhaps it was the sickness--or perhaps it was something deeper, Armin didn’t know--but he knew he needed to catch that moment on paper, somehow.

Armin sighed, sitting back into the plush cushions of the couch, resting his head against the back and staring at the ceiling. _There has to be some way to get thinner lines,_ Armin thought, tracing the wood grain with his eyes. _I think the lines are too thick. When I was flying up there, nothing was really as defined as I have it now. Maybe Hanji has some smaller diameter pens?_ Armin’s head lolled to the side, white feathers filling his vision. _Or maybe..._

Armin sat up, pulling in his wing and threading his fingers through the underside of his secondaries. The feathers were unusually soft, the shafts of the quills black with inky blood instead of the usual keratin white. He ruffled through coverts, primaries and secondaries, taking a quick inventory of how many feathers were in blood as he searched for a loose feather he could possibly use for the perfect size of pen he needed. 

Frowning at the lack of useful feathers, Armin switched wings, repeating the process of combing his fingers through the quills, checking for loose feathers. He ran his hand over the arm of his wing, then flinched away as a sharp shock of pain shot through him. Hissing a breath through his teeth, he gingerly placed his hand back on the limb. _I was perfectly fine yesterday. Why does it hurt again?_ Armin grimaced, setting his shoulders and doing his best to ignore the instinct to flinch away as he ran his hand through his feathers a second time.

Armin’s finger caught on the edge or something sharp, making him flinch away as pain sparked through his wing. Furrowing his brow, he threaded his fingers underneath the area, wincing as he found the problem. A snapped shaft of an old secondary was pinching the base of a growing feather, little drops of blood coating Armin’s finger as he brushed over it. His wing twinged beneath his touch as he grasped the broken feather firmly at the base, mentally steeling himself to pull it out.

“Hey, Armin!” Hanji said as she sauntered into the room.

Armin jumped, ripping the feather from his wing. “H-Hanji!” he stuttered, wincing and rubbing his wing. “I didn’t expect you to be up this early.” He sat up straight, surreptitiously flipping over the pages of his drawings as Hanji sat down next to him, the broken feather still in his hand. He grimaced, shrugging his wing, setting down the broken feather next to his most recent drawing, intending to covertly flip it over.

Hanji stopped him, placing her hand over his, Armin recoiling under her touch. She glanced at him, her expression curious as her eyes flitted back at the drawing. Armin met her eyes, then ducked his head, pulling his hand back. He felt his face growing hot as he heard the drawing leave the table, embarrassment flooding through him. Pulling his wings in, Armin began to absentmindedly run his hands through the feathers, the simple and familiar motions calming him.

“Armin, this is beautiful,” Hanji breathed in reverence as she studied the drawing. “The composition of this is... amazing. I would never have thought you had this much talent.”

Armin glanced back at her, ducking his head when he met her eyes. “I... Um, thank you, Hanji.” He could feel the hotness in his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears. He studied his boots, biting his lip.

Hanji settled into the couch, furrowing her brow as she examined at the drawing. “Is this... This is what you saw, isn’t it?” she asked him softly, leaning forward and resting her arms on her knees. “You’ve been here.”

Armin stiffened, her last remark definitely not a question. “Yes,” he said quietly after a pregnant silence. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before sitting back up and meeting Hanji’s gaze. She held it, letting Armin gather his thoughts, the edge of her mouth curved into a gentle smile.

“How was it up there?” she asked, gesturing to the drawing.

“It was,” Armin paused, searching for the right word, “ _surreal._ ” He pursed his lips, unconsciously drawing his wings around himself, his eyes darting to his fingers as he clasped his hands together. “After the chaos of being tossed around in the heart of the storm, and opening my eyes to this... I couldn’t believe it at first. The winds, they were so gentle. I felt like I could have soared for hours. It was so beautiful up there, Hanji. I felt,” Armin hesitated, bringing his hands apart and cycling the air in front of him to fill the silence. 

“Free?” Hanji offered.

Armin shook his head. “No. I don’t think there’s a proper word for it. _I felt._ That’s all I can describe it as.” He met Hanji’s gaze, gesturing to the drawing in her hands. “I don’t know why, but I _needed_ to recreate it, even if it was just a fraction of what I saw. It won’t ever match up, but I wanted to have a small part of it. I nearly died trying to get there, and I’m not too keen to try again.”

Hanji nodded, looking back at the drawing with newfound awe. 

“I want to think that I’ll feel that way again if we’re ever able to escape these walls,” Armin blurted out.

Hanji looked back quizzically at him, an eyebrow raised. She set the drawing back on the table, holding Armin in her gaze.

Armin flinched, ducking his head away from her gaze. “Sorry,” he said quickly, his face growing hot again. He mentally chided himself for letting his tongue speak before he could think, biting his lip and furrowing his brow as he caught the ground beneath him in a reproachful glare. 

Hanji placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you think it will ever happen? Humanity freeing themselves from the Titan threat?”

Armin raised his head, staring ahead of him, eyes unfocused. “I would like to believe so,” he said softly. “We don’t belong here, caged up like this. There’s got to be something more than just cowering here, waiting for the day when the Walls will finally fail. It’s not truly living, if we’re stuck in one place, never progressing for the rest of our lives. Sure, we’re alive now, but humanity is stagnant, and stagnant communities always die out. Unless something changes that, humanity, as a species, is slated for extinction.” Armin stopped, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face, a broken, raspy laugh escaping from his lips. “Maybe that’s why I ended up joining the Corps, destiny be damned.”

“I like to believe that’s our real requirement for this Corps,” Hanji said, gathering her right hand in her left into a relaxed fist. “That drive for us to be something more than living this sort of half-life. Why else would someone want to give their lives up in the ways we do, if not for a greater cause? The people here, it’s like we’re cogs in this great machine, hoping, praying, that we have been useful on the grander scale of things. I know I feel this way.” Hanji looked up and out the window across from her. “Do you know the story of how Levi joined the Survey Corps?”

Armin turned to face her. “I’ve heard rumors, but never the actual story, no.”

Hanji grinned, eyes half-closed in remembrance, the lines on her face growing softer, more rounded as she reached back to younger years, old memories of times where life seemed to be simpler imprinting on her countenance. "He wasn't much more than a street urchin, but I think Commander Erwin saw something more in him. Something wild that wanted to be free; a fierce desire to see everything life could give him. Of course, it was harder for Levi to realize that; he was coerced into joining, after all.” The lines on Hanji’s face grew harder. “It wasn’t easy, but Levi did end up finding his place. He keeps himself under wraps, more so than when he first joined, but that desire he feels still burns fiercely within him.” Hanji paused, silence filling the room. 

“I wonder if he sees the same in you,” Hanji said.

Armin’s shoulders flinched upward, wings spreading out slightly. “I’m not--”

“You are,” Hanji interrupted. “I heard what happened in Trost. Most, if not all, of it was your plan, was it not? You figured out who the Female Titan was. You’ve figured out how to fly without any predecessors to base it off of. You’re going to Titan-infested territory on your own, gathering intel that will save hundreds of lives. You’re special, Armin. Don’t try to run away from it.”

Armin started, hastily looking away from Hanji, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of his wings, the way they seemed to crowd around him, the strange melding of skin and feathers growing from his back, muscle groups pushing and pulling at his back with every movement of the unwieldy limbs. “Thank you, Hanji,” Armin heard himself say, the words echoing outside of his hearing.

Hanji nodded back to him, facing the window again in silence, taking Armin’s compliment at face value.

Armin bit his lip, settling back into the couch, hands clenching into fists on his knees. He focused on the sharp sting his nails were imprinting into his palms, watching his knuckles turn white. Taking a deep breath, Armin unclenched his fists and brought a wing into his lap, letting his hands flit through his feathers, fingers slipping down quill shafts and straightening barbs. He closed his eyes, hands still in his feathers, mechanically preening as if that would bring him back to feeling okay again. 

Flashes of light burst behind his eyes, memories assaulting him. He remembered a few days before, finally waking up and staying awake. His body had felt all too hot and cold at the same time, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. It had felt as if he was existing on a separate dimension, barely tethered to his body. His thoughts were like waxed strings slipping through his fingers, the very thought of moving an insurmountable task. Speaking had felt like talking through cotton and copper, his tongue awkward and heavy in his mouth, words constantly escaping his grasp and incoherent sounds taking their place instead. 

Armin scrunched his nose. He remembered trying to move for the first time after waking up. His limbs had felt as if they were filled with lead, his wings numb and useless. Even keeping his eyes open and head up seemed impossible, gravity weighing down on him as if in retribution for his ability to fly. Muscles had itched and stung, body working overtime to mend torn tissue and severed nerves. Thoughtlessly, he had insisted on trying to stand up after waking up, and promptly vomited before he could even straighten out. 

Even still, Armin could taste the bitter, iron-tasting bile in the back of his throat. _You’re okay now, though. You can walk again, and don’t feel a headache, and don’t feel sick. I’m okay. I’m fine,_ Armin reassured himself. However, he couldn’t help but feel like precious time was slipping through his fingers, time he could have been using to perfect his flying, to gain a better understanding of the winds, to strengthen his endurance. 

Sighing heavily, Armin opened his eyes, taking his hands out of his feathers and resting his head against the back of the couch. He traced and retraced designs in the ceiling with his eyes, trying to find something new in the wood grain that he hadn’t noticed in the past few days. 

His ocean waves trapped in the grain was still there, misshapen seabirds wheeling past a distorted sun, warped trees flanking the beaches and some sort of small rodent creeping up a twisted trunk. Farther along the ceiling were lumpen faces, knotted eyes staring down on him, crooked grins and gnarled hands reaching towards him in perverted glee. 

Armin darted away from their grotesque gaze, settling again on his pretend beach, his heart racing and anxiety creeping through him. He found himself preening nervously, hands flitting this way and that through different quills, no set pattern to be seen. Furrowing his brow, he placed his hands into his lap, grasping his hands firmly into fists one atop the other.

“Armin? You okay?” Hanji asked, startling him. He had forgotten she was in the room with him.

“I-I’m fine,” Armin said weakly, glancing at her before turning his gaze back to his hands. “Just... I’m tired of being holed up in here, that’s all.”

Hanji furrowed her brow, about to speak when the door rudely interrupted her.

Armin stood in a hasty salute, knocking his knee against the side of the table, a few of his maps scattering to the ground, twisting in the air like birds breaking free of a cage. Levi prowled into the room, flanked by Eren and Mikasa. Armin blinked, for a moment imagining the squad like cats, hackles raised as they slinked closer to their prey. Levi stopped close to him, sizing him up while Eren and Mikasa shared a look and gravitated towards each other.

“Arlert,” Levi said curtly. 

Armin nodded once. _Nervous, he’s nervous about something._ He scowled slightly. _Of course he’s nervous. We’ve only got days left and I haven’t even begun endurance training. But..._ Levi stood, shoulders raised ever so slightly, steely grey eyes cloudy as he was picking out what to say to him. Jaw clenched. Abnormally straight-backed and tilted forward, balancing on the balls of his feet. _Yes. This is definitely something more than what I know. Maybe it had to do with the rendezvous with Erwin that happened this morning?_

“Do you feel well?” Levi said, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Yes, sir,” Armin said, not daring to pull out of his salute. Not while Levi was like this.

“See that straight line of wood down there? Walk heel to toe down it until I tell you to stop.” Levi nodded to the floor. 

Armin complied, limbs crackling as he pulled out of his rigid salute. He walked carefully, resolutely. Unlike the past couple of days, his body didn’t feel like an awkward, swaying weight; no need to shoot out an arm or a wing to right his balance. Armin kept his mechanical pace, glancing back at Levi.

Levi nodded at him, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Come outside.” He spun on his heel, his pneumonic steps leading him back outside. Hanji exchanged a quick glance with Armin, then followed the corporal outside.

Armin glanced at Eren, head cocked at an unspoken question.

Eren shook his head. _Later, I’ll explain later,_ his gaze said.

Armin pursed his lips, coming up between Eren and Mikasa. Perhaps, he could catch some of the confidence, the strength, that they always seemed to give off. Perhaps that could heal the rest of him, his shattered pride and unstable wings. 

_Foolish thoughts,_ Armin grimaced, squinting as sunlight hit his face for the first time in what felt like ages. The sky was an open, inviting calm sea of blue. A gentle breeze played through Armin’s feathers, causing a shiver to run down his spine. 

Armin’s shoulders dropped, an unconscious sigh escaping him. The sun’s heat covered him, like a heavy woolen blanket. Itchy first, then relaxing as its heat bore down on him. He paused his steps, closing his eyes for a moment and unfurling his wings, embracing the wind with his arms and wings. The wind murmured between his feathers, brushing through each quill like an overprotective parent picking dirt out of a wound. Eddies curled around his fingertips, thousands of tiny hands clutching his before taking off into the sky again. 

_This,_ Armin thought, a smile gracing his face, _this is what i’ve been missing._ He felt a warmth in his chest, like a hook cast to spear his heart, tugging him to return skyward. He opened his eyes, walking forward and lazily flapping his wings, relishing the feeling of the wind bundling beneath them and slipping between his feathers. 

Eren had paused, looking back at him as Mikasa continued forward. Armin smiled sheepishly at him, furling his wings and walking faster to catch up to him. He caught Eren grinning as he turned back around, glancing sideways as Armin fell in step beside him. 

"It's good to see you like this," Eren murmured to Armin, brushing his fingers against Armin's knuckles. 

"What do you mean?" Armin asked, catching Eren's pinky with his own as Eren made another circle around the top of his hand. 

Eren raised his free hand to rub against the back of his neck. “Well, you’ve looked so miserable, holed up in there recovering and all. It’s nice to see you happy and... free.” A blush dusted his cheeks. “You shouldn’t be stuck in there like that. It’s so much better to see you outside and stretching your wings. It’s just... you look so relaxed and it looks so natural. I love to see you like this.”

Armin glanced to the sky, eyes tracing the thin remnants of clouds that crossed the blue like fading scars on healing skin. He pulled Eren’s pinky, wrapping his fingers around Eren’s. He thought for a few heartbeats, following the paths of distant clouds and squeezing Eren’s hand once for comfort. “I was quite the caged bird, wasn’t I?” Armin said quietly.

“You could say that,” Eren grinned, letting go of Armin’s hand and patting him on the shoulder. “But I guess if we’re going with that the door is open now and you’re free.”

Armin hummed, leaning onto Eren’s shoulder and loosely wrapping his wing around the other boy. They fell in step beside Mikasa, who weaved her way over to Armin’s side, glancing at his free wing almost expectantly. Rolling his eyes dramatically, Armin draped his free wing over her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. The three walked in silence, the gentle, warm feeling of contentment blanketing them. Hands brushed against the fingers of those next to them, fingers darting between the spaces like minnows, shoulders bumping together and mantled feathers tickling bare skin and rippling with each breeze that blew between the pines they walked through.

Armin lidded his eyes, letting himself be led by Eren and Mikasa, his third eyelid slipping over his eyes, the reaction simple and sharp. The world blurred, leaving Armin to see only fuzzy shapes and colors bleeding into one another. He could feel the warmth of Eren’s shoulder bumping into his, Mikasa’s fingers holding his own loosely. His wings, gently draped over the two’s shoulders, acted as a keel for his wandering vessel, stabilized by the pull of his two friends, his family. Armin breathed deeply, the musty undergrowth filling his nose.

He remembered, days ago, the blossoming warmth he had felt while kissing Eren. Even still, if he let his mind linger on it, his lips burned and ached, begging for Eren’s frenzied kisses again. Determined and passionate, forceful yet gentle. Time had felt stretched in that moment, the world around melting down into something more simple, something more human and pure. 

Perhaps, it had been the time where Armin had felt the most human.

Armin grimaced, shaking the thought out of his head and instead turning his subconscious attention towards Mikasa. Eren had told him about the way she had watched over him when he was trapped in the reaches of his sickness, unable to see or think straight, wavering on the line between life and death. She had been so gentle, carefully caring for him and giving him and Eren both some of the resilience she possessed. Even if Armin didn’t particularly believe in superstition, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, without Mikasa’s strength that she constantly radiated, he wouldn’t have lived. She was always there for him, like a giant monolith that gave direction in the middle of an empty plain, or a deer nudging her fawns away from danger. 

Mikasa Ackerman was strong, able to do the work of one hundred soldiers, but, Armin figured, there was more than one kind of strength. She was like a stained glass window, all made of the same material, but the way it was put together made something absolutely breathtaking.

A painful shock up his wings snapped Armin out of his thoughts, his steps stopping suddenly as if he was a piece of elastic that snapped back to its proper dimensions. He shook his head, blinking rapidly to dispel the blurry figures and bleeding colors. The world shuddered back into focus. Eren and Mikasa were stopped next to him, saluting, glancing at Armin before turning their gazes back to Levi, who was facing them with Hanji by his side. His eyes were cold, his mouth a thin, disapproving line.

Armin belatedly snapped into a salute, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up his neck and dusting his nose and ears. _You need to pay better attention,_ he chastised himself. _You’re already falling behind; don’t let your thoughts get the better of you. Focus._

“We're running out of time,” Levi said bluntly. “We’ve barely got a week left, and you still haven’t been in the air long enough to gain the stamina you need.” Levi paused, locking Armin in a steely gaze. “Hanji and I figured that we’ve let your body rest for as long as we can spare.”

Armin gave a single nod, a chill running down his spine. 

“I want you to do whatever maneuvers you think will build your stamina the most. I’m no expert in flying.” Levi shifted his weight, crossing his arms. “We’ll take small intervals of rest time, and keep going until you can’t take off anymore.”

“Yes, sir,” Armin replied demurely, relaxing from his salute. He took a step forward, twisting around and angling his wings until he found the proper headwind. A jolt ran down his wings, as if his body was remembering the terror of the storm, the wind turning against him and asserting its power over him. Feathers twinged, his wings fluffing up slightly before Armin grimaced and swallowed his fear.

“Go on, we haven’t got all day,” Levi spat behind him.

Armin glanced at Eren, taking strength from the fire resting behind his eyes, and took off at a run. He pumped his wings, harder, harder, faster. Wind slipped through the quills, laughing at his feeble attempt to get airborne. Armin grimaced, running faster, pumping his wings as powerfully as he could. _Why isn’t this working?_

Armin glanced to his right wing. He could feel the tips of his quills bending in the wind, the cushion of air that usually hung back slipping through as easily as sand through fingers. No matter how he angled his wings, the feathers relented beneath the wind, bending easily, as if they were just cut strips of fabric.

He slowed to a stop, panting heavily. Footfalls pounded behind him, throbbing behind his eyes in time with his heart. Dread filled him, making the hands on his knees seem far away and unreal, his wings too heavy on his back. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus only on his breaths, his chest heaving inward and out in a staccato rhythm. Starbursts of color hung behind his eyes as his mind flew at high speeds before finally honing in on one thought.

_I can’t fly._

“Armin! What’s going on?” Hanji’s hand slapped onto his shoulder, jerking him forward as she used him to slow herself to a stop, making Armin’s heart skip a beat. 

Armin opened his eyes, panic jolting him as he looked into Hanji’s eyes. Fear sank deep into his bones, gripping him tightly before he could let himself shake it off. “I... I can’t fly,” he choked out. “I can’t fly, Hanji. I can’t...”

The light dimmed in Hanji’s eyes. “Oh, Armin...” she trailed off, wrapping her arm around him and pulling him close. Armin stiffened for a moment, then let himself slump into Hanji’s arms. He could feel tears tugging at the edges of his eyes, his breaths catching in his throat. Hanji adjusted her hug, letting Armin bury his face into her shoulder as the tears broke through their simple defense of held breaths and blinking eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, Hanji,” Armin said quietly, trying to keep his sobs as quiet as possible.

Hanji only held him tighter. 

Hurried footsteps came to a stop, and Armin could feel the presence of Eren, Mikasa, and Levi staring down at him. He pulled away from Hanji’s comforting hug, staring hesitantly at Levi with wet eyes, taking deep breaths to stop his crying. 

“What’s wrong?” Levi said, a tinge of unnatural concern in his voice. He was too stiff again, like a coiled snake about to strike. 

Armin looked down, shame and guilt filling him. He took a deep breath, watching his chest rise and fall as he gathered himself. “I can’t fly,” he said quietly. “I’m not healed enough. They’re still growing back. Not stiff enough to hold air. I’m sorry, Levi.” Armin glanced back up at Levi, then stared instead at Eren when the shame of failing became too much.

For a moment, Levi’s stoic stance shattered. Fear flashed across his face, underlaid with remorse, his eyes growing wide and unfocused, as if he was remembering all the soldiers beneath him who lost their lives on his behalf. 

Levi grimaced, pulling his broken pieces of himself back together. “Alright. We’ll have to change our plans then. Armin, are you able to handle regular strength training today?”

Armin nodded, pulling himself up with Mikasa’s help, Hanji rising next to him, hands outstretched in case he lost his balance. “It’s not that I don’t have the strength, but my feathers haven’t completely recovered,” he said quietly, taking Eren’s hand to ground himself.

Levi gave him a single nod. “Okay. You and Eren can do strength training then. Make sure he doesn’t overexert himself,” he said, glaring at Eren. “That doesn’t mean you two can take it easy.”

Eren blushed, looking down at his boots. “Yes, Corporal.”

“Good. Hanji, could you and Mikasa take measurements and work on the project I have for you?”

Hanji nodded, stretching her hands over her head. “Yeah, sure.”

Levi turned, stalking away from the group. “As for me, I’ll be back later. Get to work.”

Armin stood silently, squeezing Eren’s hand for comfort. Seconds seemed to pound behind his heart, slipping out of his body and wasting themselves outside of his skin. He winced, biting his lip and curling his wings around him. 

“You okay?” Eren asked quietly, tugging his hand and leading him back towards the cabin.

“Give me a few minutes,” Armin said after a pause. “I’ll be fine.” _I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine._

No one spoke on the walk back.

\---

Levi held the reins in sweaty palms, matching his breaths with his horse’s hoofbeats. He broke his gaze forward, betraying his hands and staring at them. They began to shake, grasping harder at the reins. They wobbled unsteadily, almost entirely out of Levi’s control.

Unsteady. Unsteady. Steady. _Steady._

_Humanity’s Strongest,_ Levi thought bitterly. _What a load of bullshit._

His horse’s hoofbeats cut through his thoughts, the sound surrounding him like the cries of the damned. Levi grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to regulate his breath. The noise pressed harder, grinding each beat into his shell, prying at his cracks, praying entrance. 

_Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump._

Levi clutched the reins tighter, the leather biting into his palms, his fingernails cutting crescents of pain amid the hoofbeats, something different to focus on. Levi could almost hear his dead comrades screaming at him, their deaths shouting in his ears, _he should have done better why couldn’t he have saved them?_

_Stop._ Levi’s breaths grew more frantic. He could see the broken bodies of his last squad, his best fighters, reduced to nothing but husks of their former selves, hanging, battered, destroyed. All his fault. Erwin, expecting him to perform miracles, letting them even take this precious time away to train Armin. Begging for more time on account of unforeseen circumstances--preventable circumstances. All his fault. Armin, all but falling into the doorway by chance, his body teetering towards death, his wings broken and useless. All his fault.

All his fault.

_STOP._

Levi pulled hard on the reins, his horse quickly coming to a stop. He jumped off the saddle, his knees collapsing and falling to the ground, hands bringing himself to a stop. He let himself crouch, vulnerable, tears escaping his eyes, panting like a cornered animal. _Let it run its course,_ he thought, his hands grasping at the dirt. _This is nothing. You are stronger than this._

_Humanity’s Strongest._

He balked, bringing himself into a sitting position. The tears were already dry; a self-taught blessing and a curse. Levi closed his eyes again, focusing on controlling his breaths. Control started with the breath.

One, in. Two, out. One, in. Two, out. Simple. Easy. _See, look now. You’re clean again, you shit. Dirtied your pants in the process, though. Now you’ll have to clean them up._

Levi brought himself back up into his saddle, cueing his horse and galloping away from his moment of weakness. He had to be strong for them, let them believe that he knew what he was doing. For their sake. His job was to protect them, even if he sacrificed himself in the process.

Emotions were a burden better left behind.

\---

Levi thundered through the castle gates, startling a Jean Kirschstein on guard duty. Levi didn’t spare him a glare, galloping towards the stables. He all but vaulted off of his horse, controlling himself to walk with a somewhat dignified pace towards Erwin’s office. 

His hands were still trembling. Levi cursed under his breath, tightening them into fists in a poor attempt to calm his nerves. Thoughts crowded through his head, ideas that he could use against Erwin to convince him to let them stay out longer. They only had days left. They needed more time. Armin wasn’t strong enough and it was no use to send him off early when he barely had the stamina to stay in the air for more than an hour. 

They would kill their only chance of survival. 

Levi cursed again under his breath. He needed something other than half-baked ideas. _But isn’t that what you’re betting on? Some shitty half-baked idea that a fifteen year old kid will miraculously save the Corps? Some shitty half-baked idea that whatever you say will work? Some shitty half-baked idea that running away from Armin and coming back here will fix everything? God, Levi. You’re fucking pathetic._

Levi kept walking, making mental notes of everything he passed. The floors needed sweeping. The mess hall was living up to its name. The windowsills were dusty. Was two weeks really enough time for everyone to forget what a duster was? Pathetic. Perhaps he could tell Erwin that these brats needed something to do.

Erwin... What was he going to tell Erwin?

Levi shook his head, dispelling the thought for now. Instead, he watched his boots fly over the floor, the ground blurring beneath him as if he was in the air on maneuver gear. 

Before he knew it Levi was already by Erwin’s door, a hand up to knock. Levi’s hand balked, pulling away from the responsibility weighing down on it. A shiver ran down Levi’s spine, the same shiver he got whenever they would leave for an expedition that he knew half of the people wouldn’t make it back from. He could hear the screams of those he killed, ringing in his head, again. 

He could almost hear Armin’s joining the throng.

_Fuck it,_ Levi thought vehemently, skipping the knocking altogether and throwing Erwin’s door open. Erwin was bent over a stack of ledgers. Levi could make out several letters with the brass’s wax sealing on them. 

“Levi?” Erwin looked up, sounding surprised. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be with the others?”

Levi closed the door behind him, striding to Erwin’s desk. He glanced around the room quickly, making sure that they were alone. “It’s Arlert,” he said quietly, placing his hands on a clean spot of the desk. 

“What’s wrong? You said everything was fine this morning,” Erwin said.

“I was wrong,” Levi growled. “We need more time. I fucked him over. That storm did more damage to him than I initially thought. He can’t fly today. I don’t know if he’ll be fine by tomorrow but even if he is we still won’t have him ready to leave on his expedition. He doesn’t have the stamina for it. We need more time, Erwin.”

Erwin sat back in his chair, the chair protesting in reply. He crossed his arms, his face still as blank as ever. “I had to move it forward this morning, Levi, for a reason. We don’t have time to spare,” Erwin said, furrowing his brow.

“Can’t we move it back?” Levi said, voice wavering. _Damn it, Levi! You’re his only defense._

“Levi,” Erwin warned, “We had to move the date up because we already have a small window to work with, and with all of Sina breathing on our necks, we have to make our move sooner rather than later. We don’t have time to spare. Armin has to be ready by that time, or die trying. We have no other choice.” 

Levi broke his gaze away from the commander, tightening his hands into fists. “I know,” he breathed. He looked back up, eyes wide. “But we can make them wait longer. Without Armin, our entire plan with fail. He’s the lynchpin in this, and without him the whole fucking thing will come crashing down on us, and _there will be no more Survey Corps._ Erwin, we have to do something for him!” 

“Levi, moving the date will guarantee that they won’t let us clear a mission.”

“How do you know?” Levi hissed, leaning forward. “How do you know what the brass will do before we even do it?”

“I have worked with them longer than you have been here. I _recruited_ you--”

“Captured and coerced me--”

“And as acting commander of the Corps I have to do what they say, even if that means denying your advice.” Erwin’s eyes burned into Levi’s like smoldering flames, a silent anger stewing behind them.

Levi huffed a breath, lifting his hands off the table and turning on his heel. Tension hung in the room, the air hard to breathe due to the emotions charging it. Levi swallowed down another breath, the act filling his lungs with needles, filling his body with dread. What was he going to say to them? They were counting on him to fix his mistake, even if they didn’t know that. 

“You’ll kill him,” Levi seethed. Quiet. Furious. 

“It’s not my decision,” Erwin said, irritatingly calm. “I’ve given all the time that can be spared.”

“You’d rather kill a fifteen year old kid and blame it on the brass than try to help him.” Levi could feel fire coursing through his veins, desperation coloring his voice. “He’s nothing but a pawn to you, just like everyone else. There’s _no one else like him,_ Erwin, and you’d rather kill him because you can’t face your own problems. Just like everyone else you killed. Not that it matters to you. It’s hard to care for anyone when everyone is just another piece on your chessboard.”

Levi stalked towards the door, grabbing the handle and swinging it open. “I don’t even fucking like chess,” he added, shutting it before Erwin could reply. He walked away from the office, steps heavy, like shackles were binding his legs tighter with every step he took. Levi could feel his heart pounding, the anxiety from earlier creeping back up on him. 

His steps led him to the supply closet he found Armin in only weeks ago, and slumped against the cupboards, silent tears falling from his eyes. Images flashed behind his eyes. Armin, curled up in some feeble attempt to hide in the shadows. His wings, battered and broken from the storm he sent him in. The fear on their faces when he finally told him. Armin’s body, mangled somewhere beyond the Walls, another preventable disaster. 

_I’ve failed._ Levi began to sob, not even bothering to try to keep it quiet.

_I’m sorry._


End file.
